Lady Nottingham's Secret: Book Two
by Lady to the Sheriff
Summary: This is the continuation of Lady Nottingham's Secret. It turned into a bit of a novel but it's almost done. Chapter 1 here is actually 56. There's new twists & excitement coming. Will the Sheriff and his lovely lady survive the ultimate test?
1. Chapter 56

**Book Two:**

Around midday on Saturday, September twentieth, Luke, Drake, and Adam were posted outside of the main gates.

"I'm getting rather tired of performing the same task every day." Adam lamented. "I would surely love a change of scenery."

"It's not so bad. Why must you whine like a mule?" Drake said rolling his eyes. "You want something to complain about? Why don't we trade helms?" Drake hinted with his eyebrow raised.

"I'm merely pointing out that a change of assignment would be welcome for a change." Adam said.

"Then I can offer it to you." Luke spoke up.

Both Drake and Adam regarded him curiously.

"Some time between now and the next day or two, the couple wanted in the kidnapping case mentioned in the Sheriff's proclamation will be returning. The child will be with the Sheriff's men. The Sheriff asked me to take the child to Sir Gisborne's manor in Nettlestone." Luke explained.

Both men looked at him incredulously.

"The child is not to go past the gates. The Sheriff asked me to select one of you to come with me." A beat. "He mentioned you both by name, I might add." Luke winked.

Both of them widened their eyes, astonished.

"So if it's alright with you, Drake, I will take Adam." Luke said to Drake.

"It is fine with me. He is the one who can't keep still." Drake said.

"Are you serious, mate?" Adam asked Luke. He couldn't believe his luck. Though he was curious as to why the Sheriff would appoint the most junior member of the Black Knights to oversee the mission?

"Dead serious." Luke said. He pulled a scroll from his pocket and held it in his hand in front of Adam. "This is a message the Sheriff asked me to hand to Duke Farnsworth to explain it all to him. I don't know what this is all about." Luke lied, though it was true he didn't know the details. "But let me tell you, it's a funny situation indeed." Luke said.

"Why is the Sheriff so interested in this child? The Sheriff. _**Him**_ – concerned for the welfare of a strange child? You must be mistaken?" Drake said. There was no logic to this.

"No. It is true. The Sheriff was implicit in his instructions to me, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke said.

"Who cares? And since the Sheriff trusts _**you**_ so much, Luke – you can take the infant. This is the most exciting mission I've been on since ninety four. I do not wish to be burdened with a whiny, crying child in my care!" Adam rolled his eyes.

"Fine." Luke said.

"Oh, will you two shut your cake holes? I already have a headache from this cursed helm!" Drake spat as he pulled off the helm to shake his hair out. He looked up ahead as he angrily massaged his temples. He poked Adam and pointed ahead.

"My. Speak of the devil!" Adam said quietly.

Luke turned his attention to where his comrades were looking. Several of the Black Knights were arriving. There were seven on horseback. He recognized Duke Farnsworth. It looked as if Duke Farnsworth was carrying a small child in a sling in front of him. One of the Knights, a tall muscled man with unruly, long blond hair, was pulling a wagon behind his horse. The Duke and a fair haired Knight, who was shorter than the Duke but broad and sturdy looking, led the motley crew.

"God, I thought we would never get here." Mordrid said. "You have no idea how glad I was to see you on the trails outside of York county. We might have been stalled if not for that!" Mordrid exclaimed.

"Indeed. When we get through the portcullis, I want you to come with me, Richard, and Nigel. I could use reinforcement if this man tries anything funny." The Duke directed him.

"Indeed." Mordrid huffed. For it was the blacksmith's fault for keeping him from his beloved Demetria for the last three months! Or…maybe it was the outlaw? Who could keep track anymore?

"If he asks anything of you and you need an assistant, could you give me a few days, mate?" Mordrid added speaking to the Duke. "I plan to ravish the hell out of my Lady Demetria." He winked.

"Duly noted. But you can't promise you that if he indeed has a task for me that requires someone skilled." The Duke reminded his friend.

Mordrid sighed.

The group advanced closer then stopped at the gates. The Duke looked down, he recognized the faces of two of the men in the Sheriff's militia. Then he looked to the one in the center. He was tall and lean with short chestnut brown hair. He had a sparse mustache, and his green blue eyes twinkled in the light of day, even though it looked like rain would come soon. The Duke squinted his blue eyes as he studied him. Where did he know him from? He pondered a moment. Was that…the messenger he appointed to deliver the first scroll to the Sheriff? The one where he indicated he had a lead? No! His eyes must be deceiving him!

"Wait a minute, now. Isn't that the messenger you hired in July?" Mordrid whispered. As if he could read the Duke's mind?

"Sure looks like him. Well, isn't this curious? The Duke remarked.

"Good day Drake. Adam." The Duke nodded to the men. He looked to the one who stood flanked by the others.

"Don't I know you, lad?" The Duke asked.

"Indeed. I am the messenger you appointed two months ago to bring a message to my lord Sheriff." A beat. "Master Luke – at your service." Luke said.

"Well, obviously you did _**something**_ right to have been appointed by the Sheriff to serve as one of his Black Knights." Mordrid quipped.

"Indeed. For I have been asked to carry out an important mission." Luke replied. Then he turned his attention back to the Duke. "You cannot be permitted to enter until you know. I have been given implicit instructions by the Sheriff." Luke said confidently, unfazed by their seniority in their positions.

The Duke eyed him curiously.

Mordrid shook his head, astonished.

Luke reached into his pocket and extracted the Sheriff's scroll. He handed it to the Duke. "This letter was penned by our master. It is addressed to you. He implored me to give it only to you." Luke said. "You must read it before we shall raise the portcullis to permit your access."

"This is rubbish! Look at him! The consummate messenger!" Nigel shouted.

"Control yourself, Nigel. Let me see what this is about." Duke Farnsworth admonished.

The Duke took the scroll from the newly appointed Black Knight, regarding him strangely while he did so. He quickly pried the seal from it, and unrolled the parchment, eager to see what the Sheriff had to say to him, to explain this mystery.

"_Friday, 19__th__ September, 1197 Anno Domini_

_Greetings Duke;_

_You may be surprised to see the messenger you sent to me is now employed in my militia. You must listen to him now. He has proven trustworthy and invaluable to me. His name is Luke._

_I have asked him to take my child from your custody." …_

The Duke's jaw fell agape.

Mordrid looked at him strangely. "What is it, Duke?" He asked his friend.

The Duke held up a hand to silence him. Now the infant began to stir. He shook his head and glanced back upon the letter.

… "_The child will be taken to my Lieutenant's manor in Nettlestone. I cannot explain the reason in this letter, but you must trust my decision._

_If you should see my lady with me when you bring the prisoners to me, heed my words: do __**not**__ mention the child, especially the fact that it is __**my**__ child. I will explain all of this to you in person._

_As soon as the opportunity presents itself, you are instructed to burn this letter. Do not fail me on this._

_I trust you will carry out my wishes. For this has all been carefully thought out._

_Nottingham_

_SHERIFF & CHIEF CONSTABLE."_

"Is your horse nearby, waiting then?" The Duke asked Luke.

"Indeed. Adam will be coming with me. It has already been discussed with the Sheriff." Luke said. "In fact he advised I choose between Drake or Adam. Indeed, he has thought of several considerations to keep this matter private." Luke lowered his voice. He would never divulge what the Sheriff told him, but he suspected the Duke knew enough.

The Duke reached around and untied the knot of the ends of the blanket from around his back. He threw the edges down in front of him, cradled the infant in his arms, then passed the child down carefully to Luke.

"Duke! What the _**hell**_ are you doing?" Mordrid asked with his jaw agape.

"Are you going to trust the Sheriff's child to _**him**_? Mr. Duplicitous down there? After all we were put through? That letter might be fake!" Nigel warned.

"The Sheriff would _**never**_ ask you to do this. You know that, Duke. Indeed – it defies all logic!" Richard exclaimed.

"Well, he has! And he implicitly directed we are _**not**_ to question him. It is not fake. I'd know his handwriting anywhere!" The Duke insisted.

He looked to Nigel and Richard.

"Richard, Nigel. You two are going to bring the prisoners with Mordrid and I. We will personally deliver them to the Sheriff. He has asked it." The Duke said. "The babe goes with Master Luke and Adam. And the rest of you, see if you can find Gisborne. Perhaps he has a task for you?" The Duke directed each of them.

"He is on a mission with two members of his patrols." Drake announced. "He just left yesterday."

"I see." The Duke said. He looked back at the men. To the three of you I did not specify, consider yourselves lucky. Go and make merry, or obtain a lot of sleep. Whichever suits your fancy."

"Whatever it is, have one for us." Nigel sighed.

The three men gave a cheer and went on their way.

Inside the wagon, Robert Wordsworth and his wife were huddled together.

"There's one thing we can do to save ourselves." Robert said.

Isabelle's eyes widened. "Do not tease me, husband. Or I shall be tempted to kill you myself." Isabelle said.

"I do not jest." Robert said. He lowered his voice. "You do know what your name is….don't you, dearest?" He asked with his eyebrow raised knowingly.

She grinned. "Oh. Indeed I do – _**Mr. Whitfield.**_" Isabelle nodded with a wink.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff was in the Council Quarters with Lady Margaret.

"Can you take leave today, Lady Margaret? I want you to be at the manor." The Sheriff said.

"I can, my lord." Lady Margaret said.

"Tell me, uh…about this wet nurse. How will she be able to uh…provide for her own child as well mine?" The Sheriff asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"The lady's own child died during childbirth. But it doesn't stop the milk from appearing. A bereaved mother finds the greatest comfort, I find, in serving as wet nurse. It is gratifying to all involved…I think." Lady Margaret said.

The Sheriff sighed. He should have listened to his intuition. His intuition told him not to ask the question.

"Will the child, uh…reject my lady's milk when she takes over for this bereaved, unfortunate maiden?" The Sheriff asked. He had no idea how cold this comment made him sound to Lady Margaret. He in fact meant the description of the wet nurse to be taken in a different context than what it implied. Even though he still had reservations about it.

Lady Margaret shook her head and rolled her eyes. "The child shall not reject her." She assured him. What difference would it be to the child? As long as she produced it, the child's survival instinct would dictate his or her action.

"Alright. Well, answer me this then: when Lady Rhiannon takes over, will this woman you've appointed as wet nurse be on the verge of nervous collapse because she had to surrender her duties and now she has no child of her own to go home to for comfort?" The Sheriff asked.

Lady Margaret was surprised at how perceptive he was about a mother's bond.

"There is always a possibility a bereaved mother could risk taking complete leave of her senses, yes. For no loss is greater than hers." Lady Margaret pointed out.

He shook his head and sighed audibly.

"Give the child something else, then!" The Sheriff snapped.

"Her milk will be best until your lady can do it." Lady Margaret pointed out.

"Then heed the following instructions: you will be visited by my trusted Officers Luke and Adam. They shall bring the child. If you are absent, Luke has Gisborne's key. Otherwise you are instructed to grant them access." The Sheriff said.

"Very well." Lady Margaret said.

"You will be assigned two sentry for protection. Not just for you but everyone involved in the child's care, and of course most especially, to protect my child. Thus, you will inform me at once if you ever feel it's necessary I should step up the number of them." The Sheriff said adamantly.

"Indeed. You will be kept informed." Lady Margaret agreed.

"Do not let my child out of your sight. The child is not permitted to be left alone with the wet nurse, unless accompanied by you, at the very least. I must have your word you shall obey me on this point." The Sheriff said with his eyebrow raised.

"Indeed, my lord. I give you my word. It shall be done." Lady Margaret pledged.

There was a knock on the door.

"Enter." The Sheriff called.

The Scribe appeared. "My lord."

"Yes, Scribe. What is it?" The Sheriff asked impatiently.

"It is time." The Scribe said simply.

The Sheriff drew in a breath. "Send in my lead investigator." He ordered. The Scribe obeyed. He dismissed Lady Margaret.

Moments later, Duke Farnsworth stepped inside.

"Welcome home, friend. I am grateful to see your safe return. You did not fail me." The Sheriff said.

"My lord. It's good to see you. You want to tell me what's going on?" The Duke asked.

"My lady suffered a great deal of unfortunate events while held captive. I fear it caused her to take leave of her senses. Well, one of them anyway. She remembers a lot of things, but she doesn't remember anything of the child." The Sheriff said.

"Oh." The Duke said, surprised. Rather odd considering the child was four months old.

"As you can see, a delicate matter. She will be told, only by me, but I need the child settled first. I must deal with my new prisoners first. And as another point, my Lieutenant is carrying out another important mission for me." A beat. "Prepare for a heresy trial." The Sheriff grinned knowingly.

"No!" The Duke remarked in disbelief.

"Indeed." The Sheriff smirked.

"So…what you're saying is, you have too much to do to deal with it?" The Duke proposed.

The Sheriff looked at him strangely.

"You cannot control every thing. Alas, you cannot hurry love." The Duke said.

"Pardon?" The Sheriff asked.

"It will not work." The Duke said.

"Right." The Sheriff remarked casually. He shot the Duke a curious glance, then proceeded. "I need you select two of my best men to take post at Gisborne's manor." The Sheriff directed.

"Indeed. My choice is Richard and Nigel. They are familiar with the situation best. For they were subjected to the entire sob story delivered by the man and his wife." The Duke explained. He shook his head.

"Tsk, tsk. Indeed a shame." The Sheriff agreed. "Give me the names of my two new prisoners!" he demanded.

"They are Robert and Isabelle Whitfield." The Duke said.

"Send the treacherous twosome in here at once!" The Sheriff ordered.

Moments later, the Duke returned with Officers Mordrid, Richard, and Nigel, and the paltry couple who kept his child from him!

The tall man had dark hair and eyes an odd shade. He couldn't tell…were they blue, or were they green? They looked familiar to him somehow. He shook his head. He must be thinking of the proclamation. God knows he had to look at it enough. The man wore a black shirt, black breeches, black boots, a coat. His lady was petite and fair of face. Her hair was golden and she had eyes of blue. Her gown matched the colour of her eyes.

"Well…Master and Lady Whitfield – how _**unfortunate**_ to make your acquaintance." The Sheriff remarked facetiously.

Isabelle began to squirm.

"Hush, my love." Robert whispered.

'What's that?" The Sheriff said pointedly as his eyebrow shot north and inched in closer to them. He looked to both of them. "I didn't quite catch that? What – you think you're going to get out of this one?" He said as he circled them like a vulture hovering before feeding on carion. "Hardly! You are both charged with kidnapping." The Sheriff announced as he stopped in front them and bore into their eyes.

"We did _**not**_ take your child, you twisted monster!" Robert barked.

"Silence!" The Sheriff bellowed. "If I hear one more insult directed to me or to anyone in this castle, your tongue shall be extracted forcibly by me with a dull instrument! I promise you. I will _**not**_ tarry on carrying out the task either." The Sheriff threatened. "For indeed…it would be my pleasure." He smiled.

"I…no, we – did nothing but provide your child a safe and loving home. If you inspect the child for yourself you shall see it has been well cared for. Though, God knows where the babe was taken to?" Robert continued.

"You knew three months ago when my lead investigator and Officer Mordrid came knocking on your door, you had a child that didn't rightfully belong in your care. Your charge was _**not**_ an orphan. And then, you were told the child was mine!" The Sheriff shouted. "It is indeed as if you aided the man responsible. You are _**still**_ charged with kidnapping. You kept that child from its lawful parentage. For that – you shall be punished." He warned both of them. He lowered his voice as he scanned both of their faces. "You shall die….I just haven't decided if I want to be bothered with the formality of a trial or not." The Sheriff mused. "Just give me a minute." He said.

Robert and Isabelle watched incredulously as the Sheriff turned and slowly walked to the window. He paused there for what seemed only two seconds, then he flew back to them quick as lightening.

"Can't decide! Tsk, tsk... what will it be?" He grabbed the man by his collar and roughly pulled him toward him. "Guess you'll just have to sit tight and find out!" The Sheriff laughed maniacally. Then he pushed him aside.

Isabelle began to tremble. Tears fell down her cheeks.

Robert felt his cheeks flush in anger. The Sheriff hasn't changed. The rumours were false. He looked exactly the same as he did three years ago, and he looked more fearsome and indominitable now than he did then.

"Open your narrow minded eyes and look upon your child! You shall know the intent was pure." Robert said unmoving.

The Sheriff looked to Mordrid, Richard, and Nigel. "Get this treacherous twosome out of my sight! And make sure they are separated. Instruct my jailer, Joseph, to deliver twenty five lashes to this cursed excuse for a man!" the Sheriff ordered, pointing to Robert. "Oh, and tell Joseph to make sure this rogue's dear, darling wife has a good seat to observe the procedure, as a lesson to her of how _**not**_ to behave!" The Sheriff insisted.

"No!" Isabelle shrieked.

"Shut up, wench!" The Sheriff barked. "One more word out of your and you shall receive your punishment first!" He nodded to his men to take them away.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He looked to the Duke after they had left.

"Duke, one last thing. What – " he was cut off.

"Is your child, you mean? Yes, you were not told." The Duke said. He took in a breath. "You have a son, my lord." The Duke smiled.

The Sheriff swallowed. A son. He smiled and closed his eyes. Could it really be true?

"He is you, my lord. He is the very image of you." The Duke said. Then he studied the Sheriff. "Okay…all except for your eyes."

"Does he cry and scream a great deal?" The Sheriff asked.

"Well, uh…sometimes." The Duke said.

"Well, maybe that's not a bad thing." The Sheriff mused. "Perhaps he is practicing now to deal with the same variety of morons I've been dealing with in your absence. Save for two or three around here. Gisborne, and Luke namely." The Sheriff rolled his eyes.

"It is almost over, my lord." The Duke said.

"We'll see." The Sheriff said.

He dreaded telling her about this. At the same time, he was eager to see the child. Fear mixed with anticipation. Almost exactly how he felt when he first realized he had fallen for Rhiannon?

And in moments, another gnawing suspicion would present itself to him.

Lady Rhiannon was walking along the main corridor on the first level of the castle. She would be passing by the Council Quarters on her way to the stairwell she planned to take to go see Lady Meridwyn. She walked with her book under her arm. She was just coming from the gardens. She went outside for a breath of fresh air to enjoy her book, but alas, it would rain soon, she didn't wish to have the book destroyed in the rain. She looked up, she had heard several voices. What was going on outside of the Council Quarters? She drew closer and saw her betrothed coming out of the doors with a tall man with red hair and a beard.

"My lord?" She called to him.

He turned and saw her, but before he could reply, he observed her. She noticed another and completely forgot about him.

And then…she saw him. Their eyes locked. Her eyes widened. She stopped dead in her tracks. As if she was under the power of a spell?

The Sheriff shook his head slightly as he continued to watch. Once she spoke to him, she never acknowledged him. She was standing there staring at the prisoner with a look of horror on her face! She knew him. Her face registered absolute recognition. Any fool could see it! He studied their exchange as he began to feel sick.

She was opening her mouth to speak to the man.

The man shook his head slowly and shot Lady Rhiannon a warning look. The Sheriff didn't see his face, because the man's back was turned, but he could see her clearly.

Robert's gaze told her in a glance: "Do _**not**_ acknowledge me."

She squinted her eyes regarding him curiously. She shook her head. The Sheriff observed the colour leave her face. Her eyes began to glisten with angry tears.

"No." Robert mouthed the word to her.

She swallowed.

The Sheriff felt a fury rise within him like he never thought possible. If those two were not lovers, than the Sheriff would willing jump off a cliff! It was very apparent that Rhiannon and this Whitfield character indeed knew each other…intimately.

This explains everything! He thought. He was so enraged he began to tremble. His jaw was tightly clenched. He shook his head in disgust. He didn't know which of them he was most angry at? He was feeling hate surface. Some of it was directed to Lady Rhiannon.

"Mordrid!" The Sheriff bellowed to his Officer. He could care less that Rhiannon was there to witness it. This will teach her to betray him!

"Yes, my lord?" Mordrid answered dutifully.

"Strike what I said before about the prescribed number of lashes to this paltry, skinny little ferret!" The Sheriff shouted as he pointed to Robert. "Have my jailer, Joseph, deliver fifty lashes to this doomed brigand!" The Sheriff barked.

"Very well, my lord." Mordrid nodded.

"No." Rhiannon whispered. She began to sway. This couldn't be happening! A tear spilled from the corner of her eye. She turned away and angrily wiped it from her face.

The Sheriff walked slowly toward her after his men had all departed, taking the treacherous twosome with them. She was still glued to the same spot.

"It's not very pleasant to have been betrayed. _**Is**_ it, my… _**angel**_?" The Sheriff hissed, enunciating his former term of endearment for her so it sounded more like an insult.

"I told you I know him. We lived in the same village." Rhiannon said.

"Tell me another story!" The Sheriff sighed. The look of hatred on his face was frightening her.

"If I had anything to hide, why would I come to you in the first place?" Rhiannon challenged.

"Don't try to talk your way out of it. Just admit to me he was your lover, or perhaps, he still is?" The Sheriff said accusingly.

"No. Never!" Rhiannon exclaimed. For some reason she became even more white than she was a moment ago? How curious?

"You had better start talking." The Sheriff warned. "By tonight, I expect to hear the whole sordid tale from you. You have but _**one**_ chance to get it right." The Sheriff warned her.

She shook her head, as he quickly turned on his heel and left her there standing. His coat tails flew out behind him lashing at the air as he swiftly walked away from her. He never once looked back.

Oh God. What was this nonsense? Her world had just been turned upside down! What was Robert up to? He was supposed to be dead? Why did he abandon her? What kind of a loving brother would do that? She drew in a breath. She was shaking. And what was she to do, when Robert was pleading with her not to acknowledge she knew him, when they saw each other a few minutes ago? What should she do when her own brother wished to denounce her? Of course she was shocked! She just saw her supposedly dead brother, and he wouldn't let her go to him! And now her betrothed was under the illusion she was entangled in some lovers triangle! Having an affair! It was laughable if the situation were not so grave.

What was this about? She needed answers. She would demand the Sheriff give her some answers too.

But right now, she needed answers from her brother first. How to sneak into the dungeon undetected? She pondered it a moment. Of course! Why didn't she think of that before?

She would give the Sheriff the answers he was seeking. After she would talk to Robert. She had to know what this was about, what his crime was - if any, what his intent was before she decided what she should do. So she would arrange to see the Sheriff and hour after a dusk.

Kidnapping? Robert? How old was this child anyway? Is _**this**_ the reason Robert sent word of his fake death? Because he was surely acting as if he did indeed was the one who masterminded it. Why else would he strongly dissuade her from showing recognition?

Oh, how could they let her down like this? All in one moment. Her brother, and the man she thought was going to be her husband? How could they!


	2. Chapter 57

It was two hours past dusk. He had given up on her. What was she up to? Did he really care?

The Sheriff was down in Mortianna's apothecary. He was ready to venture on his outing. To hell with propriety and explaining himself to anyone. The Duke was off duty, so the only one who would be told of his whereabouts would be Luke.

He was back. The old him was now back completely. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing, or a bad thing? Now that his son…gasp. His son was returned safely to him. Indeed…the Duke shall be duly rewarded for this.

"Tell the Druids I'm back." The Sheriff advised Mortianna. "I'm through with pretending to be a properly polite, and ultimately boorish nobleman!" The Sheriff snapped.

"But…your son?" Mortianna pointed out.

"My son shall be taught everything right! He is mine after all isn't he? Stop interfering in this matter, crone! I know what is best for him." The Sheriff warned. "My son and I shall journey through this life on our own. And he shall be all the stronger for it, as I am. We did not need mothers to coddle us for us to be great. And my son shall prove to be a man of greatness." He said confidently.

"You're determined." Mortianna said.

"Indeed. I have to be. Things may go awry when I speak with her. When I find out the real truth. I must be prepared." The Sheriff said.

It was true Mortianna could have easily revealed the truth to him. He never asked because she always made it her rule never to get involved in personal, trivial quarrels. Her gifts were needed for greater things. There were some things Mortianna truly believed that people needed to work out on their own. Trust must be earned, _**not**_ spoonfed.

The Sheriff took a sip from his cup of Mortianna's batwing tea. Before that, an hour after dusk - alas, the prearranged time he was supposed to meet with his lady; he indulged in two generous libations of the tincture of rapture in quick succession, and followed that with an ounce of the eleven hundred ninety four variety. As a result, he was finally able to clear his head of all of the intrusive thoughts that kept screaming in his mind. He could finally see everything…all so clearly.

He wondered now. Did he just spend his entire life running to, or running away from a lady such as Rhiannon? He was not destined to have a love so real. Remember? He thought…when you were sending Lady Marian away three years ago? You only wished to _**taste**_ real love, not to hold unto it till you took your last breath in this life, he told himself.

He was who he was for a reason. He was the Sheriff of Nottingham, and he had done more good for this town than his predecessors. He knew he was born to carry out this duty. And he would never fail.

He was not meant to be a husband. Not meant to truly be loved by a woman. But he would be a father. He would have the love of a son and that would be enough for him. He never once entertained the notion that this would be so. And of course, if the stars dictated he was destined to continue on with his role as Sheriff, than of course! He would indeed be granted a son to follow him after he was gone! Rhiannon was only the instrument to bring it about! Or was she?

His head suddenly felt very light. He looked into his cup. What was in this batwing tea?

"Mortianna! Have you finally gone daft? Have you drugged me?" The Sheriff demanded as he closed his eyes a moment to focus.

Mortianna realized the idea held some appeal. "No, my child. Were you indulging in spirits before you came to see me?"

"Just brandy." The Sheriff said.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have offered the batwing tea. They don't mix well. Not if you've taken more than one goblet of spirits." Mortianna sighed.

"Now you tell me!" The Sheriff huffed. "It doesn't matter. The evening air will clear my head." The Sheriff said. He stood up.

"I must go. Remember – not a word to her about the child if you should see her. I'm not ready to tell her yet. And you haven't seen me if she should ask. Luke will know where to find me." The Sheriff said.

"As you wish." Mortianna said.

Twenty minutes later, the Sheriff bade goodbye to Luke after giving him his instructions. He flew through the gates upon his black mare. His raven hair danced against the purple sky. The silver studs on his shiny black leather surcoat and gauntlets reflected and twinkled in the fading light as he made his way to Nettlestone. The stars were beginning to reveal themselves in the sky. By moonrise he shall behold his son.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Just before the Sheriff sat waiting in his den for his lady to turn up for their meeting, Rhiannon was strolling along the corridors trying to remain unobtrusive as she was brazenly disguised in the Sheriff's clothing. Finally she found the stairs in the distal end of the castle that would take her to the dungeon.

She smiled at her cunning.

_Right after the Sheriff left Rhiannon standing paralyzed in the corridor near the Council Quarters, she went up into the private chambers. She went back to look through the Sheriff's clothing. She found a long, curious white linen cloak that was hooded, and a variety of masks along with the usual fare. She rummaged through the masks examining them. She chose one that was made of dark green leather, and would perfectly conceal the fact that she lacked facial hair. Like what one would wear at a masquerade. She couldn't believe her fortune. She never expected to find masks to further serve to conceal her identity! What did he do with these masks? She wondered._

_She threw off her gown and changed into a black tunic and black breeches. She frowned. The breeches would need adjusting. She could work with the tunic, but the breeches would need some work._

_She quickly changed back into her gown, and took the breeches with her to Madam Oberon's new quarters in the castle. She had just recently settled in there with her daughter Marie, whom the Sheriff approved the seamstress bring with her to continue lending her assistance to Madam Oberon._

"_Forget the wedding gown, Madam Oberon. I need these breeches tailored to fit me and you must do it expediently. I'm giving you two hours. Can you succeed?" Rhiannon asked her._

"_Oui. Ce n'est pas un probleme, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. J'aime un defi." Madam Oberon winked._

"_You have my measurements. Hurry!" Rhiannon had implored her._

Madam Oberon was indeed talented. The breeches had been tailored to fit Rhiannon's curves perfectly. When she put them on and looked in the mirror, standing on the bed so she could see it, she smiled at how her body revealed itself better wearing them, then how she looked when her lower body was covered with a voluminous skirt. Was she wrong to feel more feminine looking at her reflection in that moment, than she had ever felt before? Was it because she now tasted power? Of what is was to be a man instead? She didn't care. For the first time in a long time, she was loving dressing up.

The breeches were black suede. Almost skin tight. They were tucked into the boots. The boots were a little big on her, but they could pass. She wore a long black doublet over the black tunic, and the Sheriff's white linen cloak over that. She had bound her breasts before she put on the tunic. Next she pulled back her hair before putting on the mask. Then she pulled up the hood. Next she added his black silver studded gauntlets. Unless she had to say very much, nobody would ever know, except that she was shorter in height, and a little smaller. When she looked in the mirror one last time before she left, she was satisfied. She almost looked like she could pass for the Sheriff.

She was alarmed to see there was an additional set of gates to pass through into the dungeon. Oh God. It was Alfred posted there!

"Good evening, my lord Sheriff." Alfred said.

"The…prisoners." Rhiannon choked out in a fake throaty voice.

"As you wish, my lord." Alfred said. The gates opened.

Rhiannon smiled as she walked down the corridor. "Ha! Men – they are so easy to fool!" She muttered to herself.

"My lord!" Joseph the jailer greeted her. "You're here to see the new prisoners, no doubt?" He asked.

Rhiannon nodded. She would need to keep her words as brief as possible with his staff to avoid detection. "The man…" She said, deepening her voice and lowering the volume so he wouldn't recognize it to be someone other than that of his master.

"I shall take you to him. Come." Joseph led the way. He took her to a cell. "Just inside this door, he awaits you." Joseph indicated.

"The key." Rhiannon said. She held out her gloved hand to him. She was glad she remembered to put on the gauntlets. Otherwise he would have known in that second she was an imposter.

Joseph gave it to her. "Leave us." She said.

Joseph regarded his master curiously but obeyed nonetheless. She went inside.

"Oh, great. You again!" Robert looked up. His shirt was torn and bloodied no doubt from the prescribed lashings the Sheriff ordered. She shuddered. "No trial I suppose? You're here to kill me…naturally." Robert said.

Rhiannon removed the mask from her face, lowered her hood, and stared at him.

"You." Robert said slowly. "My own sister. How did you acquire those garments? I tried to tell myself my suspicions were inaccurate when I saw you. But…you're the Sheriff's lady aren't you?" Robert said. It was not a question, it was a realization. "_**You**_. Of all the maidens in this kingdom!" He shook his head.

"Last I checked." She confirmed. "But I might not be anymore. Why are you here? What does he want you for?" Rhiannon asked. She felt sick looking at his bloody shirt.

Robert looked at her incredulous. If she was the Sheriff's lady, would she not know her own child was missing?

"Kidnapping." Robert said.

"Whose child is it?" Rhiannon asked.

"You don't know?" Robert asked, narrowing his eyes. _What in the devil?_

"No!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Do you uh…have children?" Robert asked suddenly.

"What? Of course I don't! I am not yet married. What kind of maiden do you take me for?" Rhiannon admonished. Though it was true she had been intimate, but only with one man. She shuddered as the memory of the other one who took liberties with her suddenly flashed through her mind. She cast the memory aside.

Naturally! Why didn't I figure it out? Robert thought. That sick monster! That child is the Sheriff's alright - any fool could see it, but obviously it was not Rhiannon's because she knew nothing of it! Robert wanted to kill him. That monster no doubt had been dallying behind his sister's back! Did she know he was unfaithful? He would wait to say something to Rhiannon about it.

"Did you send me the letter two years ago that told me of your demise?" She asked pointedly.

"I did." Robert confessed.

"Why?" She demanded angrily keeping her voice down so she wouldn't be heard. "Why would you choose to abandon me?"

"To protect you." He said.

"What?" She asked incredulous.

"I did it because I was wanted. I was wanted by your Sheriff." Robert stated.

Lady Rhiannon felt the room begin to spin. "Why were you wanted?" Rhiannon asked slowly in disbelief.

"Because I was one in Locksley's rabble. But…before I continue – how involved are you with….him?" Robert asked pointedly.

"I am engaged to be his wife." Rhiannon answered.

Robert sighed. This couldn't be happening! "Then, it is good I saw you earlier. To warn you not to acknowledge that you know me in any way." Robert said sternly.

"I don't understand?" Rhiannon pleaded with him.

"Don't you see? I was a follower of one of your betrothed's greatest enemies! He has not yet made the connection that he has captured one of the wanted men in Locksley's rabble. But when he does, I'll hang for certain. And if you are found to be my sister – he could hang you too!" Robert warned, keeping his voice down.

"No. He would never!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Trust me, he might." Robert said.

"You must explain yourself, brother. You at least owe me _**that**_! You must tell me…everything." She whispered.

And so, over the course of the next hour, he explained how he met up with Locksley and his companion, Azeem, the moor, and Peter Dubois, while captured in the Saracen prison in the Holy Land. He detailed their escape, their journey home, and how he came to be one of the merry men. Next he spoke of all that happened in the village square in ninety four, his escape from the grasp of the Sheriff then, and why he decided to pretend to be dead to her.

At the end of it, she felt sickened. She was filled with shock and fear. Fear for her brother. And fear at the thought of losing the Sheriff should he continue to go on believing that the man he knew to be his prisoner was her lover, instead of the truth. But could she risk him knowing the real truth? Would Robert die no matter what course of action she took? The Sheriff referred to her brother earlier, outside of the Council Quarters as _"this doomed brigand"_, meaning - he planned to kill Robert anyway!

"Listen. I saw something written earlier about Locksley. The men wanted in connection to him. Your name was listed among the wanted fugitives, so the Sheriff knows your name. Tell me, brother, why has he not made the connection?" Rhiannon asked.

"I am still dead to you, right? Didn't I convey that to you in the afternoon?" Robert hinted. He sighed. "He thinks my name is Robert Whitfield." Robert said.

"Oh, Robert! I'll never be able to bring him around now! He thinks we are lovers! He saw us – he is convinced!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Better for him to think that is the truth. Better to be banished from his life, than for you to lose your life!" Robert reminded her.

She reached into her pocket. "I brought you some bread." She said. "Take it."

She put it in his hand. He took it from her wordlessly.

"I shall return." Rhiannon said. "You and I have some unfinished business. I cannot forgive you…yet." Her eyebrow raised to punctuate her words. She put the mask back on, and drew up the hood.

Robert smiled after she left. She turned out well. She was strong willed, tough as a soldier, and clever. Even though she was involved with the cursed Sheriff of Nottingham! He shook his head in disgust.

Rhiannon went to Joseph. She showed him the key. "I wish to keep it." She choked out the words in a forced deepened timbre. She tried not to cough. This was the only part of the charade that proved itself challenging. "You have one?" She asked the jailer.

"Yes, my lord." Joseph said.

She nodded. She pocketed the key and tried to mimic the Sheriff's confident stride as she took her leave.

And now she was back in the private chamber. She took the mask off her face, took off the cloak, and shook out her hair. It was very late. She realized she had been gone longer than expected. The Sheriff was gone. He was probably more angry now than he already was with her. She continued to undress and changed into her bath shirt. She needed to relax. She would soak in the tub. She would have a libation of brandy to calm her as well. She summoned the servants to bring forth buckets of hot water, and they prepared the bath to her specifications. She wanted to be at her best when he returned. She didn't want to be anxious. She placed the clothing she had of his into her trunk, along with the key the jailer gave to her. She would need these items again. Then she went into the bath chamber and took her goblet of brandy with her.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff banged on the door of Gisborne's manor. Where were his sentry?

Lady Margaret answered the knock on the door.

"Lady Margaret, what has happened to my guards?" He asked.

She invited him inside. "They have yet to arrive, my lord."

"What!" The Sheriff demanded.

"I don't know?" She shrugged.

"Alright, fine! I'll get to the bottom of it. Now…where is he?" The Sheriff asked.

"Come." Lady Margaret beckoned. She led him up the wooden steps to the second floor to Guy's chambers. There was a cradle inside the room. He slowly walked toward it.

The child was alert. He was waving his hands about. He had dark chestnut, curly hair, almost as dark as the Sheriff's. But his eyes were green. He had Rhiannon's eyes. The Sheriff gasped. He never paid much attention to infants before, but he saw his lady in this boy's eyes. There was no doubt about it. He saw himself, and he saw his lady…in this child. That was indeed his son.

He reached out to grab the child's hand. "My son." The Sheriff said quietly.

"You can hold him, you know." Lady Margaret said.

"But I – "

"He won't break for God's sake!" Lady Margaret rolled her eyes. "Never mind." She said. "Come and sit by the window. I shall bring your son to you." Lady Margaret directed him.

He obeyed. The babe was placed in his arms. He swallowed and regarded the child with a mixture of pure fear, and adulation. And a deep, genuine paternal love. And that of course, added to the fear. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Oh Rhiannon…" The Sheriff whispered. "If you could see him? But you betrayed me. Alas, it cannot be so…" He sighed.

The child looked up to the face. He looked through the amber eyes and knew in his soul that this was his father. He relaxed. He felt content. He tried to speak as if to say: "I know you.", and he knew all would be well.

The Sheriff opened his eyes. He looked into his son's eyes. "Do you know who I am?" The Sheriff asked. He sighed. "No. Of course you don't. But you shall. You will have everything you need, my son." The Sheriff smiled. Except one thing you need, he thought. He bent down and kissed the child's soft cheek.

He held the infant until the child fell asleep. He looked down upon him, and he longed to feel that again. Just for a moment. The innocence of being an infant. He wondered if he looked that content when was an infant himself? He thought on it a moment, then he shook his head. Somehow…he doubted it.

When the Sheriff opened the door to leave, he bumped into his Officers.

"Where the _**hell**_ were you? Don't you know a child demands your protection?" The Sheriff barked.

"We were uh…at the tavern, my lord." Nigel said. "We were away a good many months. We were only celebrating with a goblet of good cheer."

"What? You have a duty to perform! Neither of you better have overindulged!" The Sheriff warned as he looked upon both of them.

"It shall not be repeated, sir." Richard said.

"Indeed." He looked to Richard. "I know that you were instrumental in getting my son home to me. I am grateful. But now you have been given a task of far greater importance. Do not fail me." The Sheriff warned as he bore his glowing amber eyes into Richard's green eyes.

"Yes, my lord." Richard said.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few hours past moonrise, near to the witching hour, the Sheriff strode along the corridor toward his private chambers.

Alfred was back at his usual post. His eyes did a double take when he saw the Sheriff coming. How did the Sheriff change into different clothes so quickly? Alfred was staring at him.

"What are you looking at?" The Sheriff huffed.

"Didn't I just see you not long ago, on your way into the dungeon?" Alfred asked him.

"I haven't visited the dungeon yet!" The Sheriff said as he regarded Alfred curiously. Had this man been drinking mead too? Or was it the head injury he'd recently suffered that was making him daft?

"My. Aren't you all a paltry lot?" The Sheriff snarled. "Let me guess. You went to the tavern with Nigel and Richard." The Sheriff said.

"No, my lord." Alfred said.

"Well something's wrong with you if you appear to be seeing illusions!" The Sheriff remarked shaking his head. He looked at him curiously one last time, then went inside the door to the den.

Rhiannon was sprawled on the sofa, fast asleep. Her book was laying on her lap. A silver goblet of brandy was beside her on the floor. She was wearing her navy velvet gown that Madam Oberon made for her. She was dressed like she was going to leave? Why was he not surprised?

He went toward her. He bent down and picked up the goblet and set it on the table, then he stood in front of her.

"Rhiannon." He spoke. He didn't lower his voice.

She opened her eyes and looked up into his. He stood over her looking down coldly at her. Like…all love was lost from his eyes. She didn't know this man before her.

"I hope you're rested, my dear. I don't care if we are awake all night. You are going to talk. Get up!" The Sheriff commanded.

She swallowed. Could all of this really be happening? How could she go to sleep, and wake up, and just by a change in the calendar have her whole life ruined? She was so angry at Robert and George right now she wanted to kill both of them. Damn them both to hell! All she did wrong was trust and love them. You fool! She chastised herself. Each of them helped her to see the light again. She's always said she needed no one. And they had both proven to her why she always lived by this motto - all in one day! They had both proven that she could never expect to count on anybody! Not even _**them**_!

She arose and sat up. Damn. The pain was coming back. She would have to bear it. She had endured worse pain.

Endured worse pain…

When? Why did she just think of that? She took a breath and tried not to let him see she held it.

"Talk." The Sheriff said.

She sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"I saw the intimate exchange of glances you and that Whitfield character shared today. Don't try to deny it! I want you to admit it. You just might be forgiven." The Sheriff said through his clenched jaw.

"Admit what exactly?" She asked angrily. This was unreal. Was she in some sort of nightmare she couldn't wake from? Or was she now finally seeing the infamous Sheriff of Nottingham that everyone was so quick to remind her about?

"You were with him. I know it. What – you take me for a fool?" The Sheriff spat. "Fine. You'll never admit it, I can see that now. So tell me this then: what exactly of our time together was real to you?" The Sheriff demanded.

"All of it." Rhiannon answered without hesitation.

"No. Let me rephrase that. When did the lying start?" The Sheriff asked.

"I never lied to – "

"Silence!" He bellowed. "Now you're lying about lying! Do you even know what is truth?" He asked incredulous. "What was the reason you became involved with me?" The Sheriff asked directly.

"This is ludicrous. You know why! I told you how I fell for you?" Rhiannon said.

"No. I want to hear it again. I want to see if it's the same as what you told me before, or are you having difficulty getting your story straight?" He sneered.

"How dare you!" Rhiannon shouted.

"Thought so. You cannot remember. Well, let me tell you something – I already know what your intent was!" The Sheriff said.

"Oh, this should be good." Rhiannon said, folding her arms. "Why don't you enlighten me then?" She demanded.

"Does the word 'opportunist' ring a bell with you?" The Sheriff asked. His left eyebrow shot north when he said it. Normally she would've been warmed when he executed that mindless facial expression. Instead, she felt cold as ice.

"You thought I was after your wealth?" Rhiannon exclaimed. She shook her head. This was overwhelming! Damn Robert for asking her not to say anything! All of this could've been resolved if she could just tell the Sheriff that Robert was her brother. But now she wondered…if the Sheriff could think her capable of all of this, would he really be worth holding onto?

She shook her head. "I cannot believe that you would believe this of me. That you would lose total faith in me. Doubt every kind word I ever said to you. I was wrong to trust in you." Rhiannon whispered.

"Is that all you have to say? Because I'm not sure if I can even believe _**that**_ marvelous display of affection. Maybe you should take a bow, my dear. For you have performed well." The Sheriff hissed.

She just stood there frozen. She shook her head, staring at him.

"We shall continue this discussion later!" The Sheriff snapped. And then he left her. She didn't know where he was headed.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was dawn. The Sheriff hadn't returned. She doubted he would come back for quite some time. Could she risk what she was about to do?

She took her chances. She opened the trunk, and quickly changed into the Sheriff's clothes. The same garb she wore last night. She made a decision. She was going to speak to Robert. She looked in the mirror as she pulled back her hair. Then she picked up the mask and put it on. She pulled up the hood. She grabbed the key, and the Sheriff's dagger - the same one she used to wound the vile madman who held her captive. She might need it if anything should go awry.

Once again her plan worked. She was standing before the jailer again, just at the door of the dungeon.

"My lord. Back again so soon?" Joseph said.

Rhiannon nodded.

"You may go inside – it is your dungeon." Joseph said.

"Yes." Rhiannon muttered in a forced deepened voice.

She unlocked Robert's cell door and stepped inside.

"Robert?" She called.

Robert looked up. "What are you doing? You're taking too great a risk!" Robert admonished.

"I've made a decision." Rhiannon announced.

"Alright. Let's have it." Robert said.

"I'm telling the Sheriff that you are my brother." Rhiannon said vehemently.

The Sheriff arrived at the door of the dungeon. He'd put this meeting off long enough.

"Joseph." The Sheriff said to his jailer.

Joseph jumped and gasped when he saw the Sheriff.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Has everybody gone mad around here?" The Sheriff exclaimed.

"No, my lord. But…you're supposed to be…over there!" Joseph said. His eyes were widened. He pointed toward a cell about thirty feet away.

The Sheriff's left eyebrow shot north. "Over…where?" The Sheriff asked slowly, incredulously as he looked in the direction that Joseph pointed to. He strode over to the door and threw it open. It banged loudly on the wall behind it to announce his presence in what was becoming his signature dungeon etiquette panache.

Rhiannon turned around and jumped. She let out a gasp.

"What the hell – " The Sheriff began, then stopped when the dawn of realization came over him. He went toward the peculiar individual who was dressed exactly like him, in his own clothes, and ripped the mask from Rhiannon's face.

"No…" The Sheriff gasped with a look of horror in his eyes. He felt like she had just thrust a knife into his back. He shook his head.

"Wait a minute - " Rhiannon began. She was interrupted.

"Rhiannon…don't!" Robert implored her.

"You lying little wretch!" The Sheriff barked. "Try and explain this one why don't you?" He demanded.

"I needed to see my…friend." Rhiannon said looking away.

He shook his head. He wanted to strangle her. At the same time he resisted the urge to lick his lips as he eyed her up and down appreciatively. How did she get his breeches to fit her like that? She looked…amazingly sensual dressed like that. They were skin tight, they revealed every curve. He felt himself grow hard. Damn the woman!

"Just say it!" The Sheriff demanded. "Stop lying to me, lady!" He shouted.

"Say what?" She asked.

He stood a moment, breathing hard as he glared at her. He pointed his sword in the direction of his prisoner.

"Do you love him?" He asked pointedly. He raised his eyebrow again suspiciously.

"Why are you doing this?" Rhiannon asked. A tear spilled from the corner of her eye. She tried her best to ignore it and bit her lip in trepidation.

"Answer me!" The Sheriff barked.

She looked at Robert. He was no help! He was shaking his head, giving her a look of warning! Was he jesting? After all this? No. She could attempt to explain that Robert was her brother. But she knew now that the Sheriff would never believe her, because Robert likely wouldn't back her up. The Sheriff would assume she lied about all that she had said about him too! Curses!

She backed toward the door regarding both of them. "I'll tell you the answer!" Rhiannon shouted. "I used to dearly love the both of you. But now…I _**hate **_you both instead!"

Then she ran through the dungeon, down the corridors, through the additional gates, and kept running, then up the stairs and down through the long hallway of the main floor. She ran past the Office, then the Council Quarters. Some of the Sheriff's staff saw her, regarding her strangely over her manner of dress. She recognized the Scribe, Thomas Crumwell, and some of his Knights. Let them think what they want!

She ran out into the gardens, and escaped in the mazes that clothed the landscape. It was raining. What did it matter? It was raining in her soul too. It was perfect, the weather completely matched her mood. She found a bench to sit on. She began to weep. She laid down upon it, the raindrops mixed in with her tears. She tried to control it, but it was futile. Perhaps the rain would wash her pain away, if only for a little while.


	3. Chapter 58

The man was polishing his sword in his private chamber on Sunday morning, when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter." He called.

His trusty henchman appeared in the doorway.

"Ancel, you've returned to me. What have you learned?"

"He has a lady he loves very deeply. Their wedding is scheduled in five days hence." Ancel said.

"How convenient!" He remarked merrily. For it couldn't be better. The Sheriff was going to suffer a greater loss than he did. This was beautiful!

"He doesn't know about your skills with a blade, I trust, sir?"

"Huh! He thinks me a fool if truth be told. But I planned it that way. Better to play the fool when dealing with your enemies, Ancel. It gives you the advantage. He shall never see this coming." Hamon said.

But Hamon underestimated the cunning of the Sheriff of Nottingham, because the Sheriff was already two steps ahead of him.

As this exchange was taking place in Hamon's private chambers, the Sheriff's Lieutenant, Sir Guy of Gisborne, was riding into the town of Portsmouth on his chestnut mare with two men from his patrols. He stopped his horse and paused to consult the map that the Scribe gave to him.

"Which way is it?" One of the men asked. He was tall with black hair and piercing blue eyes.

"This way, Gerad." Guy replied pointing due south. He looked at them both. "Follow me." He said leading the way.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Half an hour after the horrible revelation in the dungeon, the Sheriff slowly opened the door and entered into his private chambers. Rhiannon was found to be in the den again. She was – oddly, still dressed in his clothing. She stood near the fire. Her garments… No. His garments were soaked. She must have run outside. He walked to the table wordlessly. He poured himself a libation of the tincture of rapture and brought it to his lips as he stared at her. He was so angry he could hardly look at her, and yet…why did she have to look like a fantasy while she wore…his clothes? It aroused him to think of his garments against her skin. She was the personification of lust standing there before him. He swallowed.

She turned around, folded her arms and glared at him.

"What – no more insults? That's a surprise." Rhiannon said.

"Don't you_** dare**_ twist this around to make yourself out to be the damned victim! I'm not buying it!" The Sheriff warned.

"Indeed. You made _**that**_ perfectly clear." Rhiannon said. "I couldn't begin to count all of the things you accused me of." She added.

"If you would just admit – " He couldn't get the rest of the words out fast enough…yet again.

"That your prisoner was my lover? You'll find out the truth eventually." Rhiannon remarked casually.

"You admitted to me you loved him. You cannot deny that now." The Sheriff seethed.

"Indeed. I did, didn't I?" Rhiannon said. "But you don't understand. And even if I begin to tell you the truth, you still won't understand. You will think it is contrived. So why should I waste my energy?" Rhiannon asked.

"Why else would you? You mean you don't know why you'd bother to explain it? Well, you just spoke volumes to me with one sentence, Rhiannon. You don't even wish to try to repair this between us!" The Sheriff said shaking his head.

"You're doing it again." She said.

"Doing what?" The Sheriff asked impatiently.

"Presuming too much. Go ahead. You just go right on believing what you will. Speak to me when you can be civil with me." Rhiannon said, turning her back to him.

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff said to her. He was so confused. Why on earth was she acting as if _**she**_ was the one who had been betrayed in all of this? She truly acted like the jilted one! What on earth was going on? There must be more to this!

"It's too late." Rhiannon said. "You have revealed your true heart to me."

"Rhiannon…" The Sheriff whispered.

"I cannot endure this at the moment. You must give me time before you speak to me next." Rhiannon implored him.

"What?" The Sheriff asked.

"Just…leave me. I shall be gone on the morrow. But give me some room to think." Rhiannon said.

His jaw flew agape. He stared at her incredulous. He couldn't make sense of anything she was saying!

"It doesn't have to be too late." The Sheriff said to her. "If you would only admit the truth." He spoke as calmly as he could possibly will himself to.

"I am. I am telling you the truth. And if you don't believe it now, than you will. You shall see very soon how completely, and foolishly as it turns out; loyal I have always been to you, my prince. You shall see the lengths I'm willing go to, to prove my love for you." Rhiannon announced.

The Sheriff stood there shaking his head. She couldn't get anything straight! She couldn't tell him because it was truth. He could not believe she could do this to him. He was a fool to ever have bothered with her! Except that…she gave him a son.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later, Rhiannon was inside the Lieutenant's private chambers.

"Meridwyn." She said as she looked upon her friend.

"There you are! Listen. We must check on your wedding gown today. Your wedding is only in five days, my dear." Meridwyn suggested.

"There shall be no need to." Rhiannon said, her eyes downcast.

"What?" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"There will be no wedding." Rhiannon announced.

"Rhiannon! What's going on?" Meridwyn implored her.

"It is too complicated to explain. You would never believe me either. But I am doing what I'm doing for good reasons." Rhiannon said.

Meridwyn demanded in a glance that she tell her more.

Rhiannon sighed. "Something unexpected has happened. Someone from my past has turned up. I'm distancing myself so that his life may be spared. But my betrothed will never understand the truth of it. He doubts me too much for me to continue with our marriage plans. I cannot bear it." Rhiannon explained, shaking her head.

"Whatever it is, you must tell him. You know he loves you!" Meridwyn advised.

"I cannot tell him. And, no, I don't believe he does love me. Not after the hateful things he said to me." Rhiannon said. She took a breath. "I only came by to bid you farewell." She admitted.

"Tell me where you'll be!" Meridwyn cried.

"No." Rhiannon said. "You cannot get mixed up in this. You must not ally yourself with me. It might cost you."

They embraced and then Rhiannon went on her way.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, the Sheriff went back to the private chambers. He was looking for Rhiannon. He was going to try one last time to get to the bottom of this cursed situation they were in.

He saw the parchment lying on the bed. Something shiny was upon it that caught his eye. It twinkled in the light. He advanced further and bent down. It was the ring he gave to her. He picked it up, and with the other hand picked up her letter. He began to read:

" _Sunday, 21__st__ September, 1197 Anno Domini_

_My Lord;_

_I say to you one last time that everything I ever said to you, every moment we ever shared was real and true to me. I have never loved a man the way I love you, and I never will again._

_And now you see that I indeed know your prisoner. I cannot begin to explain it, because I know you'll never believe me._

_You must punish me, along with him then. For no matter whether I tell you the truth or not, that is to be my fate, and it will be issued by __your__ hand._

_I am returning to my manor. You know where to find me to make your arrest._

_No. I am not cowardly like the late Lady Marian. I am merely accepting my fate. Because if you truly believe that I love your prisoner now or ever the way I love you, than indeed I have aided him, and for that you must punish me. You will do so anyway whether you realize it or not. So let it begin now. And so it shall be done._

_I await…your prisoner._

_Rhiannon."_

His eyes widened. His jaw flew agape. She couldn't be serious? She had truly gone mad! She was practically begging him to arrest her, and then sentence her to die…

WHAT?

His head was beginning to pound. This was pure madness! He would not listen to her. This must be a trick! Still, he could not shake the gnawing concern for her safety while she was away from his protection.

He _**did**_ love her. But it was apparently too late.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An hour later he met with Duke Farnsworth and Luke in the Council Quarters.

"You summoned?" The Duke said on behalf of them both.

The Sheriff looked upon each of them. "Indeed." He said. "As you know, I have sent my Lieutenant on a mission in Portsmouth. But now, matters are piling around me here that demand my attention." He began.

The Sheriff looked to Luke. "Gisborne usually oversees the duties of the dungeon. He is the one my jailer, Joseph reports to. Alas, he is unavailable to me. And now I have the couple in there who are charged with kidnapping. The man was at risk of escaping this very morning! I'm appointing you to take charge of the dungeon in Gisborne's absence." The Sheriff said.

"Very well, my lord. I shall report there directly to speak with your jailer." Luke vowed.

"Good." The Sheriff said. "Your first order of business after that is to begin interrogation. I'll discuss the details with you after I speak with my lead investigator, so don't take leave yet."

"As you wish, my lord." Luke agreed.

Next the Sheriff turned to the Duke.

"And you – I'm assigning to keep watch over my lady." The Sheriff said.

"She requires additional protection from what she already has?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"She has relocated to her manor. True she had protection while she was staying here, but now she needs the protection I can offer her more than ever. You will watch over her, but never let her know it." The Sheriff instructed.

"Alright." The Duke said. "But perhaps if she knew you assigned one of us to protect her, she would come back to you. She would see – "

"She is _**not**_ to know. Just do it!" The Sheriff huffed. "And do take note that if you find anyone whom would dare to touch a hair on her head, your orders are to kill. I don't care how you do it. Just do it…._**slow**_." The Sheriff snarled.

"Very well." Duke Farnsworth replied.

"Is there anyone you trust to take with you? For this is a delicate matter. If anyone wishing to harm her finds out she's not staying here any longer, they could use the information to get to her. But I don't want everyone to know that she called off the wedding. I need someone I can trust to work alongside you." The Sheriff implored the Duke.

"Then I choose Officer Mordrid." The Duke said.

"Good. Now find him, and make haste to my lady's manor. She is already a number of miles ahead of you!" The Sheriff commanded.

Duke Farnsworth nodded and took his leave to carry out his tasks. Luke remained standing and the Sheriff instructed him on how to deal with the cursed man who had dared to touch his lady.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhiannon was riding swiftly toward the outskirts of Nottingham toward her manor. Memories came flooding over her. As she flew down the dirt path and the scenery flashed quickly past her, so did moments from the last year vividly play in her mind. She saw his handsome face. She saw his amber hazel eyes burning on fire as he bore them into hers. And she kept hearing that smooth chocolate, baritone voice of his, echoing in her mind:

"_Lady Rhiannon. A beautiful name, for such a beautiful lady…You set my soul on fire…My lady, you're safe now…you…are my Lady of Nottingham. Lady of my heart…or are you?…Will you be my wife?…My angel…I plan to take You – to eternity…Whatever comes lies in store for us…If I ever choose my duties over you, that's when I'll know I've reached the lowest point of my life…My Lady Nottingham…Look at me…know this. I've never loved anyone, until you…The only woman whose ever heard those words uttered from my lips, is you…Rhiannon…Promise me I won't hurt you or I will not proceed…Oh, my lady…"_

And then, she heard all of the hateful words he had said to her since.

She blinked away angry tears. And then she remembered something… what was it he said to her just recently?…

"…_heed my words: you're the only woman I've ever touched with true meaning behind it."_

And then, she knew exactly what she could do to find out for certain how deep the Sheriff's love was for her. But could she handle the truth of it, if things didn't work out the way she hoped? She realized she had nothing to lose. For if the truth came out that he could indeed forget her so easily, than she was better off without him.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Who the hell are you?" Robert asked the Knight who suddenly appeared in his cell on Sunday afternoon. He was accompanied by an older man who was holding a writing tablet and chalk. He took a seat on a chair. He guessed the man was the Sheriff's Scribe.

"I am here to interrogate you. I have been asked by the Sheriff to do it." Luke said.

Robert laughed. "Fine. Begin then." He said.

"State your name." Luke demanded.

"Robert Whitfield."

"What is your occupation?" Luke asked.

"I am a blacksmith." Robert answered.

It is a shame he is one of the prisoners, Luke thought. The Sheriff could surely use one of those! He turned in the direction of the Scribe.

"Did you get all that down, Scribe?" Luke asked.

"Yes, Master Luke." The Scribe replied.

Luke nodded and looked to the prisoner again. "How long was the child in your care?"

"Three months. This is ridiculous! Why are we bothering with this formality? It shall make no difference!" Robert huffed.

"What makes you say that?" Luke asked, curiously.

"He shall hang me regardless!" Robert announced.

"Well, that would depend. You have anything else besides kidnapping you wish to confess to?" Luke demanded.

"No." Robert lied.

"How did the child come to be your charge?" Luke asked.

"The Sheriff knows the answer!"

"Just answer the question!" Luke barked.

"He was placed on my doorstep. He was inside of a basket wrapped in blankets." Robert said.

"Why did you not surrender the child to Duke Farnsworth and Officer Mordrid of the Sheriff's militia when they came calling on you? When indeed you found out – that the child belongs to the Sheriff and his Lady?" Luke asked pointedly.

"Because I knew he would be better off with me and my Lady Isabelle!" Robert snapped. "And you are wrong on one point." Robert hinted.

"What is that?" Luke asked, curious to hear the answer.

"The child indeed belongs to the Sheriff. Any fool can see that! But it does _**not**_ belong to the Sheriff's lady. I cannot tell you how I know this. I just do." Robert said.

"How dare you!" Luke spat. "How dare you insult my master. You are accusing him of being unfaithful to her. You have no right!"

"I have more rights than you shall ever know." Robert commented with his eyebrow raised.

"My lord has been nothing but devoted to his Lady Rhiannon." Luke said.

Robert was sickened to hear the name of his sister associated like that with the Sheriff. Even though she told him this was true, he did not like this.

"It wouldn't be the first time he's indulged in sins of the flesh, I am certain." Robert spat.

Luke shook his head in disgust. He was starting to understand why the Sheriff appointed him to act in this role in Sir Gisborne's absence. Maybe the Sheriff knew deep down that Luke would be hard pressed not to kill this cursed prisoner!

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She was glad she found the large pouch of gold hidden in the den. Too bad she couldn't seem to locate the opium! She had what she needed. She decided her manor could wait. Just up ahead was the place of business she was going to pay a visit to. She found a tree nearby to secure the horse and made her way down the path to the door. She hoped someone here would listen to her proposal.

A middle aged woman wearing a low cut brightly coloured, garish gown, answered her knock. A chuckle escaped her lips when she looked upon Rhiannon.

"I don't have anything _**you**_ would be interested in, milady. For I can see you haven't come here to work for me!" The woman remarked brazenly. She had fiery amber eyes and ivory skin tones. The freckles had been camouflaged with powder somehow. Her lips were stained pink. Her long neck was accentuated by her brightly auburn hair which was fashioned elegantly upon her head.

"Yes. I have a business proposal for you instead. I wish to buy one of your courtesans to service someone for me." Rhiannon hinted.

"Oh. I get it. You want to prove whether or not your lover is unfaithful?" The woman said. She chuckled. "The oldest trick in the book, honey! Welcome to the lonely hearts society." The Madam rolled her eyes and sighed.

"I have gold." Rhiannon announced.

"Come in, milady." The woman smiled greedily and beckoned.

The Madam took Rhiannon into a small room. Rhiannon guessed it was her office.

"I am Madam Birghiva, the owner of this winning operation. Tell me more." The Madam prompted her.

"It is not just any man I wish for you to have your courtesan service. It is the Sheriff of Nottingham." Rhiannon said.

"Oh. Indeed! You are to be wed in five days hence, am I not correct? The heralds announced this just recently." Madam Birghiva said.

"Yes. And I need to find out if his love for me is true." Rhiannon said. She preferred not to mention the point that the wedding had been called off. It was no business of hers, nor the courtesan she would hire. "Can you arrange it?" She asked.

"That all depends….how much are you going to pay me, honey?" The Madam asked.

"Fifty gold pieces. Will that be sufficient, Madam Birghiva?"

"Indeed, it is, my dear. Tell you what. I'm going to gather a few of my best ladies, and you can choose. Then you can tell her for yourself, what your instructions are." The Madam suggested.

"Very well." Rhiannon replied nervously.

She selected a young beautiful maiden whom on close inspection, bore a slight resemblance to herself. She was slightly shorter than Rhiannon, but she was slender and finely featured. She had vivid blue eyes that were striking with her dark chestnut brown hair. Her hair came down to her shoulders in shiny silky waves. Her lips were full and perfectly shaped. She had a dainty nose, high cheekbones, and a long neck. She was perfectly curved and knew exactly how to accentuate it with her gown and accessories.

Lady Rhiannon nodded toward the maiden to Madam Birghiva. The Madam dismissed the other ladies from the room. Following that she nodded to Lady Rhiannon and took her leave so they could discuss the details.

"You." Rhiannon said. "Tell my your name, miss."

"It is Celestria, milady."

"You are to attempt to seduce my betrothed, the Sheriff of Nottingham." Rhiannon said.

"Alright. What is the purpose of this then? I take it this isn't a gift for him?" Celestria guessed.

"What?" Rhiannon asked incredulous. She shook her head in disbelief.

"The liberal minded ladies sometimes buy one of us as a gift for their men. Though, just between you and I – they would never admit this to anyone." The beautiful maiden winked.

"You must be jesting!" Rhiannon exclaimed. "How could – " She was cut off.

"If you ask me, I'm sure the ladies are up to clandestine endeavors themselves to request such a thing. Otherwise, how could they hire one of us to please _**their**_ men and not care about it?" Celestria said, shaking her head.

"Indeed." Rhiannon remarked absently. "The purpose of this is to test his love for me. I'm sure you know what I mean." Rhiannon hinted.

Mistress Celestria nodded.

Now, for the difficult part. Rhiannon sighed. "Now…you must heed the following instructions: you must be patient with your seduction of him. If you come on too strong and too quickly he'll be uninterested. Do not whine about anything. Do _**not**_ tell him you love him, because I can tell you – he will not like it. He'll think you are mad. Do _**not**_ mention me in any way. Not even as a casual reference about his betrothed, or he will not participate. You must make him believe you're the only woman he can see in that moment. And if he cannot go through with it, then I shall know." Rhiannon instructed.

"Anything else?" Mistress Celestria added.

"Yes. He likes the colour burgandy. At least on me, he does." Rhiannon smirked.

"Noted." Celestria grinned knowingly. There was a short pause before she continued. "What are the rules?" Celestria asked. "As specified by you, I mean?"

"You can…touch him." Rhiannon choked out the words. She gritted her teeth. You must be strong! She willed herself. "You may kiss him. You can undress and permit him to see your body." Rhiannon said. "You can touch him intimately, but do _**not**_ use your mouth." She added. If they should be together again, that was her duty alone to perform on the Sheriff!

"Hmm. I must remember that point, milady. For that might yield me more payment in future!" She winked. "And…what if he wishes to proceed?" Celestria asked the dreaded question.

"Then do it." Rhiannon replied abruptly. "And when this is done, you are to report to me directly – every little detail of the encounter. Everything he said and did. Am I clear?" She asked with her eyebrow raised.

"Oh yes. Crystal clear, milady." Celestria acknowledged. Though she was annoyed about having to go to the bother of reporting to the lady when it was done.

"Good. You are to tell him that you were sent to him as a gift. Tell him you came at the request of an anonymous sender. Your Madam has my address, when you are ready to submit your report." Rhiannon said.

"Look honey, I am a courtesan, not a spy!" Celestria said indignantly.

"You shall be paid well. Does twenty five gold pieces sound good enough to you?" Rhiannon asked with her eyebrow raised.

"Fine. You shall have your report." Celestria agreed. "When?" She asked Rhiannon pointedly.

"Go to his chambers tomorrow night. After dusk." Rhiannon directed. She knew he wouldn't be coming for her for a few days. He would need to think about her letter. But she needed to get this over with soon.

"What about the guards?" Celestria pointed out.

"Tell them… that you were sent to the Sheriff by a member of the Black Knights who wishes to remain anonymous. Tell them this 'Knight' wishes to bring the Sheriff out of the insufferable state he is in, and that you are the gift. "Rhiannon said. "Trust me, they will grant your access." Rhiannon rolled her eyes.

"That is a good one, if I may say so!" Celestria grinned.

"Indeed." Rhiannon said. "Here is your payment." She said as she handed a sack containing the twenty five gold pieces to the hired courtesan. The agreement was made. "Do not fail to report to me." Rhiannon reminded her.

She mounted her horse and continued on her way to her manor. She would have the answers she was seeking by Tuesday. And then, if the Sheriff had conducted himself properly, she just might listen to him should he try to make amends with her. And if he failed to do that, then he would come for her. And he, along with her brother, shall suffer for the way in which they both treated her. Like a child. Presuming she couldn't handle the worst of his crimes – Robert. Assuming she was having adulterous relations, or failed to reveal a (hypothetical) steamy affair from her past – the Sheriff. Failing to defend her and finally reveal the damn truth of it when the Sheriff stood there accusing her, and fired off a series of insults to her – Robert. Accusing her of being an opportunist and a liar all along – the Sheriff. Damn them! They were both going to squirm! For that was indeed her intention when she penned the letter to her lover.

Robert was being obstinate, he would never tell the Sheriff he was her brother! She had forgotten what a nuisance he could be when he made up his mind. He was opinionated, and always believed he was right. He was never easily dissuaded. And, if the Sheriff indeed submitted to the charms of Mistress Celestria, he would prove he had no love for Lady Rhiannon. It would be easy then, for him to arrest Rhiannon…or so she thought. And no doubt, if he chose to arrest her, he would reveal this to Robert in order to taunt him. So she would be a doomed prisoner just like Robert. Both her lover and her brother would be consumed with guilt, and they would _**both**_ get what they deserved! She had _**no**_ wish to die, not by any means. She challenged the Sheriff to do this out of anger and pride. To hell with the two of them! She would make both of them suffer!


	4. Chapter 59

It was just turning dusk on Sunday night. Meridwyn was alone in the private chamber, missing her husband, and now her companion. She couldn't imagine what had transpired to cause the cancellation of the Sheriff and his lady's wedding, but she knew there had to be some misunderstanding.

Oh Guy, she thought. Come home soon. This is madness. Perhaps _**you**_ can talk some sense into him?

It was at this time, that Guy and his men had just secured their horses outside of Hamon's estate. He ordered his men to circle the home and look inside. They came back around the front to give their report.

"I saw no signs of life in there." Gerad said.

The other man shrugged.

"Break down the door!" Guy ordered.

They searched through the home. They found nothing. Hamon was gone. Guy asked the men to take a last look upstairs. After they left the room he stood in, he quickly scanned the area for an appropriate place to conceal the items the Sheriff gave to him. Near the desk by a window, he found several shelves containing books. The books had several layers of dust covering them. Guy grinned. Looks like Hamon doesn't read much! There was plenty of space there to hide the book of shadows, the double edged dagger, and the silver pentagram medallion within and behind the lot of books. He rearranged the dusty books back in their place, stood back to assess it, then smiled, satisfied. It was better if Hamon didn't know the items were there, when indeed…they returned with the Bishop.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The town council meeting had just adjourned on Monday morning. The Sheriff asked to speak with Gregor, his tax collector at the close of the meeting.

"What is it you wish to speak to me about, my lord?" Gregor asked.

"Once again, you are instructed _**not**_ to collect taxes from my lady for her property, and her estate." The Sheriff said.

"Alright." Gregor said.

"You will continue in this manner until further notice." The Sheriff added.

Gregor nodded and reassured the Sheriff it would be done.

After the Sheriff excused Gregor, one of his sentry announced that Master Luke was present to report to him. He asked the sentry to send him in.

"My lord." Luke nodded.

"Well Luke, how was your first interrogation?" The Sheriff asked.

"It was fair, my lord." A beat. "I regret to tell you…it is obvious he cares for her." Luke said.

"Is that so?" The Sheriff asked gruffly.

"Yes. He is convinced your child is not hers. When I probed him about it, he said he knows this to be true, but cannot reveal how he knows." Luke said with chagrin.

The Sheriff shook his head. How did the cursed little ferret come to this conclusion? He must have figured it out when he spoke with Rhiannon, when she slithered into the dungeon like a snake! Somehow the man must have figured out she had nothing to do with it, because naturally, she doesn't remember anything of her own child! The Sheriff let out an audible sigh. Did that cursed prisoner tell Rhiannon this, that the child he was charged with kidnapping was mine? She probably thinks I was unfaithful to her too! This was pure lunacy! If the Whitfield character hadn't shared this tidbit of information with Rhiannon then, he would surely find a way to tell her now - if she would be so bold as to try to see this man in the dungeon again! And Whitfield would try to use this information to his advantage. The Sheriff pondered this a moment. If Whitfield couldn't have Rhiannon, he'd make sure the Sheriff couldn't have Rhiannon either. The Sheriff rolled his eyes. He needed a drink.

"What did you learn?" The Sheriff asked.

"He repeated everything you told me." Luke said. "Then he spent so much time insulting you that I decided to cut it short." A beat. " I had not yet been advised about how you wished me to proceed with disciplinary measures."

The Sheriff nodded. "You were wise to come to me first. You are permitted to harm him, but do not kill him. Use whatever means comes to mind if force is indicated." The Sheriff said.

Luke nodded and took his leave.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At dusk on Monday night, Rhiannon was pacing her room in her manor, wringing her hands. Celestria would be showing up at the castle any moment now. Suddenly, Rhiannon felt sickened at the thought of them…touching each other so intimately. How far would the Sheriff take this? She was filled with anxiety and cursed herself for following through with this dreadful idea. She walked toward the door. She was going to go and mount her horse.

Then she stopped at the door. No. Whatever is to be shall be. He must come to you willingly, she thought. The only way he can do that, is if he doesn't submit to the courtesan – willingly.

She drew a deep breath and went to the bed. She hugged her pillow to her and prayed she didn't just make the biggest mistake of her life.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was an hour after dusk. The Sheriff was preparing to retire in a little while. He was reclined on the small sofa in the den, sipping his second generous libation of brandy. He was dressed in his breeches, boots, and the long black silk robe. Finally, he was feeling relaxed. He spent most of the day mulling over the events of the last three days. Everything had changed. He was angry. He had been lied to. And only two things served to calm the rage when it came over him. The brandy, which was not completely working to tame it at the moment, and…

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He went to the door and opened it. He was surprised to see a beautiful maiden standing there before him. She was almost as beautiful as Lady Rhiannon. She wore a burgundy silk gown. It had a low cut sweetheart neckline, and was fastened all the way down the front with laces. She wore a black cape over that. She knew exactly how to accentuate her best features. Her full lips were stained in a neutral colour to match her gown. She wore a golden chain. The choice was very clever. Upon it hung a medallion shaped like an arrowhead encrusted in garnets, with tiny diamonds accenting the perimeter of the pendant - that pointed directly to her cleavage. Her breasts were pushed up, and they beckoned for his touch. The Sheriff licked his lips. Her chestnut hair shined and the waves caught the light of the torch burning on the wall behind her. It made her hair appear to dance with light. Her eyes were a deep blue framed by long black eyelashes. The Sheriff swallowed. How did this beautiful courtesan know exactly when to show up? She was either a sign, a gift, or a trick. He didn't care which of them she was, because the prospects of her unexpected visit were suddenly interesting. Especially since the brandy had done little to calm his rage, he thought with a smirk.

Mistress Celestria concealed a gasp. She had seen the Sheriff of Nottingham from a distance before, but never up close. He was…the most devilishly handsome creature she had ever seen! He was fiercely arousing to look upon, and dangerous. His appearance was a mixture of mystery and exotica combined. She looked into his eyes and felt the beginnings of licentiousness. His lady was a damned fool not to just take this man, no questions asked! If the lady was too stupid to hang onto him, then perhaps Celestria could do something about it? The seduction would be genuine - because in that first glance upon him, when their eyes first locked - which only lasted a moment, Mistress Celestria had forgotten most of her instructions from Lady Rhiannon. She realized she could've cared less anyway. She would make the Sheriff forget all about his ungrateful, foolish little lady entirely! The corners of her perfect mouth upturned in a smirk.

"I did not send for you." The Sheriff spoke. His voice made her feel warmed all over.

"No. I was sent to you as a gift. You may do with me what you will." Celestria spoke in a soft seductive tone. She leaned into him and whispered into his ear. "But you don't have to do anything you don't want to." She breathed. She followed that by blowing in his ear softly. She knew exactly how to bring this man around.

The Sheriff closed his eyes and swallowed. "Enter." He said.

He gave her a goblet of brandy, then brought his own goblet to his lips and finished it until the contents were drained. Then he poured another goblet. He wasn't sure if he was drunk enough for this? He closed his eyes, and drew in a sigh. This was an illusion. It cannot be real.

"What is your name?" The Sheriff asked. He expected her not to answer, because he was certain he was going to wake up any second now.

"I have no name." Celestria said.

The Sheriff regarded her curiously. How much had he had to drink again? See? It _**was**_ a dream. How perfect is this?

"I am your fantasy." She whispered.

He sighed. Then he wondered if someone tainted the bottles of the tincture of rapture while they were stored in the cellar with some sort of a drug? The Sheriff sat back upon the small sofa and reclined back, sipping his brandy as he watched her. He didn't know why he was doing this, but he knew he was still angry at Lady Rhiannon. He was filled with such jealous fury he couldn't think clearly. So he let the tincture of rapture help him to enjoy the moment.

She inched toward him, and began to slowly untie the laces that held her gown closed. Her breasts became visible. Then when she was just inches from him, she bent down to him and leaned her firm, perfectly shaped breasts into his face for a brief second. Her perfect, hard pink nipples grazed over his lips. He sighed. Then she ran her hands over his shoulders and pulled his silky robe down and slowly removed it from him. She did so in such a way that the fabric grazed his skin like the touch of a feather. Then Mistress Celestria slowly ran her soft hands over his strong arms and his smooth chest, kneading his flesh while she did so.

The Sheriff closed his eyes and sighed. _Oh, Rhiannon. You're not here with me, yet I almost feel near to you. If I close my eyes I can pretend that it's you, and we shall be together… _No. This was not Rhiannon. She had turned her back on him. And now he was free to do whatever he desired.

Celestria stood before him. She swiftly unlaced the strings on her gown that held it closed. She pried it open and removed it, letting it fall to the floor. She stood naked in front of him.

The Sheriff closed his eyes. He was growing hard at the sight of her. The mistress came to him and proceeded to straddle him. He put his hand on the back of her neck and brought her forward. He took in the scent of her silky hair. It smelled like roses. It smelled like... the rosewater that Lady Rhiannon applied to her skin after bathing. He always associated his lady with roses, especially white ones. She was drawn to them, and held one in her hand when they first spoke. Curses! Forget her, you fool! He told himself. This maiden is the most beautiful damned consort who has ever graced your chambers! She's damn near perfect. Take her!

She began to kiss his neck, his ear then his cheek. When she moved toward his lips, he gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away from him.

"Kiss me anywhere, but not on my lips." The Sheriff instructed.

She nodded. Then she slowly settled on top of him. She deftly untied the strings of his codpiece and cast it aside. Before she continued, she proceeded to grind against him as she leaned her breasts against his chest and kissed his neck. He closed his eyes tightly and sighed. He wished this lady was Rhiannon. The goblet he held in his hand suddenly dropped to the floor.

Celestria reached down and slowly unlaced his breeches. She pried the edges apart then stopped. As she stared into his eyes when she had his full attention, she slowly brought her fingers to her mouth and licked them. Then she lowered it to him and took him in her hand. She stroked him slowly, expertly, then working him into a heightened frenzy of arousal. He slowly licked his lips. He thought he would die if he did not take her now…

But she stopped. Then she suddenly knelt before him. To hell with her instruction from Lady Rhiannon - she was dying to taste him. He excited her like no man ever had. She took him in her hand and brought her lips toward his manhood.

He grabbed her again by the shoulders and stopped her.

"No." The Sheriff said abruptly. "There is only _**one**_ woman who is permitted to touch me in that manner." He said firmly.

She looked up at him and smiled. But she stayed there. She wet her fingertips on her tongue again then began to stroke him. Then she gently blew on him, and swept the silky strands of her hair across him. He began to breathe rapidly and closed his eyes. He was rock hard. This maiden would kill him if she didn't stop teasing him! To hell with it! He was drunk. He could do this! He needed her. He needed this - whatever she was going to bring to him to make him forget about Lady Rhiannon. He tossed all logical thoughts that were telling him to stop, and cast them aside. He had to take her. He had to take her now. He grabbed her and brought her toward him. Celestria gave him a smoldering seductive glance, and smiled. She was pleased. He wanted her. She was going to make him forget all about his Lady Rhiannon. She positioned herself over top of him again. She continued to touch him intimately with her hands. He felt himself harden even more. He needed her damnit! He tentatively reached down and found the place between her thighs. He began to touch her and threw his head back and sighed.

"God you're wet." He whispered huskily when he opened his eyes and narrowed them. He burned them into hers as he continued to please her. "Mmm. So tight…" The Sheriff breathed. He closed his eyes again briefly and gasped.

"Don't stop, my lord. I don't need to catch my breath. I'm halfway there." Celestria purred as she licked his left earlobe and blew in his ear. At the same time she was continuing to stroke his manhood applying quick motions with varying degrees of pressure. He moaned an appreciative response. Celestria sighed. This man was perfect. He _**felt**_ perfect in her hands. She wanted to feel every inch of him within her. She desired him more than any man she ever had before. She was filled with anticipation. He was touching her like he wanted her. Like he couldn't wait to take her. She was almost there. Could this really be real? Was she really just about to get intimate with the most handsome man she'd ever laid her eyes upon? She couldn't believe her luck at finally landing an assignment like this one.

He cursed himself. Why was he doing this? Why did this courtesan have to be so damned beautiful? No. Just take her! She's a gift, damnit… just take her! She feels so good. She's wet for you. And she's making you so damned hard…

She leaned forward and let her breasts touch his face. She was disappointed to see he didn't respond. The Sheriff wanted to taste just one of her perfect nipples, but he couldn't. He couldn't figure out why? She reached down and took him in her hand to guide him. He was ready for her. She paused for a moment and looked into his eyes. He was breathing hard as he burned his eyes into hers. He was ready to explode. This was it, the moment he was waiting for. She was a vision. This was a dream. Yes, this was only a dream…

"Take me now, my lord. As you can see…I am ready for you." She whispered.

He sighed. He was more than ready for her.

Celestria maintained her gaze and slowly lowered herself to him. He watched as she slowly licked her lips in anticipation of his touch. He held her waist with one hand, with the other he gripped the cushion he was seated on. He closed his eyes. Just as they made contact – a feather light touch of what they might have had, he spoke.

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff whispered longingly in a sigh.

Mistress Celestria stopped. The Sheriff opened his eyes and looked at her. He quickly grabbed her and pulled her away before she proceeded further.

"Get off of me, whore!" The Sheriff whispered gruffly.

Celestria wanted to slap him, but thought better of it. Fine! Let the lady have him, she thought as she dressed hastily. He wasn't worth my time anyway!

"Who sent you to me?" The Sheriff demanded.

"Someone who wishes to remain anonymous." Celestria said as she put on her cape.

"You have to be more specific than that." The Sheriff said unmoving. He wouldn't let her leave until she answered a few questions.

"One of your Black Knights. He wishes to remain anonymous but he sent me to you…in an effort to cheer you." She said.

"Hmm. Interesting." The Sheriff muttered. This was curious. Funny – nobody had ever done this for him before? Why now? Who would do this?

He was right about one point on first sight of this courtesan. She was not a sign, and she sure as hell wasn't a gift! His Knights wouldn't dare do this – it had to be a trick! He wondered if Whitfield could've orchestrated it from his cell in the dungeon? The Sheriff wouldn't be surprised. One thing was certain, the Sheriff would find out who had gone to such lengths to trick him!

She turned back to face him as she had one hand on the door handle. "Uhm…you can find me at Madam Birghiva's should you change your mind, _**gorgeous**_." She gave him a knowing wink, then exited.

Curses! The Sheriff let out a sigh. Of all the times for a beautiful one to show up at the door to his chambers! Where the hell was she three or more years ago?

But what he really wanted was to be next to his lady – if she was still his lady. He knew that now. He cursed himself for touching the courtesan. He came very close to taking her. If Rhiannon hadn't come to mind when she did, he indeed would probably still be ravishing and pleasing the hell out of that pretty little wench right now! He began to mutter curses under his breath. Now the memories of the unnamed courtesan's perfect, beautiful body touching him skin to skin sent chills down his spine. And now, he wasn't sure if he was more angry at himself for coming so close to being unfaithful to his lady, or for stopping the beautiful blue eyed wench from mounting him? Women were so damned complicated, but why did he need them so much? He had behaved…exactly the way he always used to! Except for stopping the wench from taking him in her mouth – before he met Rhiannon, he would've welcomed it; except for that – the old him was back. He nearly took that maiden in reckless abandon!

He made a mental note of the unnamed whore's last words, should he find the situation with Lady Rhiannon to ultimately be irreparable.

And then he wondered…if it could be resolved…even though he didn't get totally intimate with the courtesan, would he be able to look Lady Rhiannon in the eye again? What have I done? – Or not done? He thought.

If this was indeed orchestrated by Whitfield, then the Sheriff had a problem. If Whitfield was able to hire the consort to seduce the Sheriff – he would find a way to report this to…Lady Rhiannon. Oh God…she was going to know! Because who the hell else besides Whitfield could've done this? She would know. He was doomed. He took a large gulp of the brandy, closed his eyes and sighed. He decided then that he definitely was _**not**_ drunk enough.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"How was your evening?" Madam Birghiva asked. Celestria had just returned at moonrise from her close encounter with the Sheriff of Nottingham.

"Huh!" Celestria snorted. "I don't know how she can stand him! He wouldn't let me kiss him on the mouth – "

"Why would you want to?" Madam Birghiva said. "Haven't I always strongly advised _**never**_ to get too close to your clients? I've always told you it's better not to kiss their lips. It makes this business so much easier if you don't." The Madam reminded her.

"Yes." Celestria said. She knew if not for the memory of that cursed little wretch, she would still be reveling with the Sheriff right now! Dying to kiss him on the lips. And if only he hadn't stopped her, perhaps he would've let her do that by now?

"I was going to do something else for him too, but he wouldn't let me." Celestria said regretfully.

"What was that?" The Madam asked. Why did the courtesan seem so disappointed by these subtle rejections?

"I was going to…uhm…" Celestria blushed.

"What!"

"Take him…in my mouth." Celestria whispered.

"Interesting. I'm sure that has a lot of appeal for many blokes?" Madam Birghiva mused as she stroked her chin, pondering the idea.

"Yes. I heard about the trick from another." Celestria lied.

"Oh?"

"Indeed. Anyway…he stopped me. I uh…guess he doesn't like that." Celestria said.

"And?…" Madam Birghiva probed.

"He loves the cursed little wretch! But she does _**not**_ deserve him!" Celestria exclaimed.

Madam Birghiva's eyebrow shot north, curiously. "You fell for him, didn't you?" She guessed accurately. Her glowing amber eyes burned into her courtesan's. Coupled with her hair, she looked like pure fire.

"No." Celestria answered a little too quickly, her eyes downcast.

"This is indeed – a problem." Madam Birghiva remarked, shaking her head.

"No it isn't. He stopped me, Madam. We were this close!" Celestria exclaimed as she formed her thumb and forefinger in a small 'c'. We actually _**touched**_! I say to you: it was madness! Then he stopped. He stopped just before I would feel him inside of me! I shall never be able to look him in the eye again, I dare say." Celestria lamented. "You need not worry, Madam Birghiva. There shall be no problem." She sighed.

"You're certain?" Madam Birghiva asked. She knew the question was pointless. It was very obvious by the tone of the consort's voice, that she was very disappointed that the session ended so abruptly. Celestria wanted the Sheriff. None of the consorts ever wanted their clients!

"Absolutely." Mistress Celestria lied as she looked away from the Madam's piercing gaze.

Madam Birghiva sighed. There was no mistaking it. She prided herself on how well she could read people. It was a good strength to possess to run this manner of business. She knew it as sure as she was standing there: alas, the mistress had completely and totally, almost madly in fact….fallen for the Sheriff of Nottingham!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Tuesday morning, the Sheriff strode into the dungeon. It was time to have a few words with his cursed prisoner. He nodded to Joseph on his way in and went straight to the door of Robert's cell. He opened it the same way he did the last time he came, pushing it in so it thudded on the wall behind it. Robert looked up and sighed.

"Nice gift you sent to me last night, Whitfield. I took a good look at it." The Sheriff snarled.

"Gift? Why in the hell would I send _**you**_ a gift? And how could I arrange that from in here?" Robert asked incredulous.

"Don't play the fool with me!" The Sheriff hissed. "I know exactly why you did it too. So you can tell her all about it! I don't know why you're bothering this much to hang onto her. It won't matter to you anyway, because….Oh… wait a minute. Didn't I tell you? You're going to die!" The Sheriff laughed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Huh! I always knew you were delusional!" Robert sneered.

"Really?" The Sheriff remarked facetiously as he inched in closer. "Yes. I took a long thoughtful look at it. Your gift to me, that is. And I touched it. And then I figured it out - that it was too good to be true. It was a trick. It was your trick. And besides that - I couldn't do it to _**my**_ lady!" The Sheriff barked.

Robert just stared at him shaking his head, completely astonished. What the _**hell**_ was the man going on about?

"So I rejected your little _**gift**_. Do make sure you tell Lady Rhiannon _**that**_!" The Sheriff yelled.

"What in the devil are you talking about?" Robert asked again. The Sheriff said nothing. Robert shook his head. "My…. Rhiannon deserves so much better than the likes of you!" Robert blurted. He stopped himself just in time from referring to her as his sister.

"Your…._**what**_ exactly? You stopped yourself then. What were you going to say?" The Sheriff demanded. His left eyebrow shot north as he continued. "Hmm…let me guess: your 'darling'? Your 'dearest'? Or how about…your _**'lover'**_!" The Sheriff barked.

"What the hell does all this have to do with the kidnapping that I'm here for? Am I your prisoner because I 'kidnapped' your child?" Robert asked as he hooked his first two fingers of both hands around the word, even though his arms were chained. "Or - am I your prisoner because I dare to love your lady?" Robert asked pointedly.

"Well it does make things rather interesting, but you will die because you kept my son away from me!" The Sheriff hissed.

"And your lady…" Robert said with his eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Rhiannon is the boy's mother. I know you don't believe that, but I don't personally give a tinker's damn what you think!" The Sheriff huffed.

"Sure." Robert chortled.

"You shall _**never**_ begin to love her the way I do. I had planned to make that lady very happy. She could still be happy if you would stop interfering with your boorish games!" The Sheriff said as he bore his amber eyes into Robert's. He never once broke eye contact when he said it.

Robert was stunned. Could the Sheriff _**really**_ love Rhiannon? No. The Sheriff was skilled at lying and manipulation. He was manipulating Robert right now. The Sheriff was not good enough for Robert's sister!

"Whatever you say." Robert said nonchalantly. He was curious to know what this gift was that the Sheriff had just referred to.

"Joseph!" The Sheriff bellowed.

His jailer answered the summons within moments.

"Yes, my lord?" Joseph asked.

"Administer twenty five lashings to this cursed, pathetic, skinny little ferret!" The Sheriff barked as he pointed his sword in the direction of the prisoner.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, just at midday, Mistress Celestria arrived at the estate to submit her report to Lady Rhiannon.

Lady Rhiannon was startled when she opened the door, even though she was expecting her. She was afraid to hear what the courtesan had to say. Rhiannon gestured for her to come in and took her to the sitting room.

"Tell me." Rhiannon implored her.

"I undressed, then I got close to him." Mistress Celestria began. "You sure you can handle this?" She suddenly asked.

"Tell me every detail. I must know." Rhiannon replied.

Celestria cleared her throat. "I began to kiss him, but he stopped me from kissing him on the mouth." She said.

"Go on…" Rhiannon encouraged.

"I touched him… I made him hard." Celestria whispered. She tried not to grin.

Rhiannon swallowed.

"And uhm…I know you told me not to do it, but I... couldn't stop myself. I knelt down before him and – "

"No! I told you not to!" Rhiannon hissed.

"Don't worry, honey. He stopped me from doing that too." Celestria remarked with chagrin.

Rhiannon sighed. She tried to conceal the grin that was beginning to slowly form.

"What else? Did he touch you?" Rhiannon asked.

Celestria drew in a breath. This was embarrassing – having to admit to this ungrateful wretch that the Sheriff pretty much had rejected her! This ungrateful –

"Hmm. Not really…" Celestria hinted as she looked up and mused. The corners of her mouth upturned in a smirk. "At least – not at first."

A series of thoughts began to echo loudly in Celestria's mind: _ If I tell her, I'll look like a fool - as if I possess no skills of seduction! If I tell her…she will marry the Sheriff. I won't stand a chance with him. But…he wanted __**me**__. He responded to me, he was ready. The way he touched me…I was almost there. I almost had him! I could have him again! Yes! I could have __**him**__ again…_

"But then, you see, I had him worked up into such a state of passion, he could no longer help himself." Celestria suddenly blurted.

"What… do you mean?" Rhiannon asked slowly with her eyebrow raised.

"He began to touch me…intimately. He could see I was ready for him. He said he liked it that I was... wet, and uhm…what was it he said again? Yes – 'so tight'. And you see…he was _**soo**_ hard." Celestria smirked.

Rhiannon gasped.

"I straddled him. We were skin to skin. I lowered myself slowly to him…" Celestria said slowly with her eyebrow raised knowingly.

"And…what did he do then?" Rhiannon asked. She closed her eyes and crossed her fingers behind her back for the answer.

"He grabbed my hips and pulled me on top of him and took me right then, in total reckless abandon. And I pleased him. And then, he let me please him again." Celestria said unblinking. "In fact, he kept me up _**all**_ night!" Mistress Celestria lied.

Rhiannon's jaw flew agape. Then her face went white as death.

And then the lies just kept on coming….

"And then…wait. Shall I tell you more?" Celestria taunted.

Rhiannon nodded for her to continue. She needed to know the truth of it.

"A miracle occurred. He finally let me kiss him on the lips. He drove his tongue into my mouth and wrapped it around mine." Celestria said. She would make him do this to her...next time. He would want her...again.

Rhiannon felt sick to her stomach.

"And then…he finally let me savour the taste of his _**perfect**_ manhood in my mouth. Mmm…he was _**soo**_ good. Tell me: does he let himself release while inside of _**yours**_?" Celestria asked boldly, lying through her teeth.

Rhiannon stared with her jaw agape.

"He liked it, milady. He wants to see me again." Celestria lied. She wanted to laugh. You lose…fool! She smiled to herself.

"No. Lies…all of it – lies!" Rhiannon cried.

"It's not a lie, milady. And…if you need me to teach you anything new, you know where to find me." Celestria winked as she headed for the doorway. She stopped and turned around to face Rhiannon.

"Oh yes, I was going to keep this my little secret, but what the hell! He likes it when you massage him with moistened fingertips, blow on it, and then sweep your hair softly over it. You must make it so it touches him feather light. Remember that." Celestria taunted.

Rhiannon shook her head.

"Just guess how I wet my fingertips? Oh yes…he _**liked**_ it alright." Celestria smirked. She decided to leave it to Lady Rhiannon's imagination how she wet her fingertips to touch the Sheriff's perfect manhood. Let her mull _**that**_ one over in her small mind! The Sheriff would be back for her for certain! Celestria knew it. Once this foolish and ungrateful wretch rejected the Sheriff, he would be summoning for Mistress Celestria. She would have him. And he would want it...next time. She smiled knowingly at the thought of their next encounter. The first one was damn near perfect. And it would be perfect...next time. He would be putty in her hands.

Rhiannon felt her heart sinking. No. This couldn't be. How could he!


	5. Chapter 60

The Sheriff was just closing the doors of the Council Quarters on Tuesday just before dusk when he saw Guy. Guy had just returned from his mission and was coming to report to his cousin. He knew he would find him there because the Sheriff always went to the Council Quarters at day's end religiously.

"Guy! How did the mission fare?" The Sheriff asked when he greeted him.

"I found nothing there to incriminate him. We didn't find him either." Guy said.

"Perfect. Did you do as I asked?" The Sheriff asked.

"Yes. I found the perfect place to conceal them." Guy replied.

"Good. I just have a few things I need to deal with here before we go back." The Sheriff said.

"What news, cousin? I can tell you have something to say." Guy guessed.

"My son is home. He is safe at your manor." The Sheriff smiled.

"You have a son." Guy said quietly.

"Yes, Guy. Isn't it marvelous?" The Sheriff exclaimed. "He is perfect. He looks like me. But he…has her eyes." The Sheriff said with his eyes downcast.

"Cousin?" Guy asked. Something was wrong.

The Sheriff sighed. "It's a long, drawn out story, Guy, but…Lady Rhiannon called off our wedding. I'm not even sure if I understand the reason anymore." The Sheriff said. His eyes remained downcast.

"What?" Guy asked, incredulous.

"It has to do with the man charged with kidnapping my child. Remember what I told you when we dined together with our ladies two days before your wedding? That – she knew the man who was wanted for it? Well…that was only my hunch." The Sheriff said. His eyebrow shot north while he continued. "Once again, my hunch, or gut instinct as I would prefer to call it – was right on target. Again! Because she _**does**_ know him!" The Sheriff hissed. Then he turned around and opened the door to the Council Quarters again. He motioned for Guy to follow him inside so they could continue their conversation privately.

"And?" Guy probed him after the door was closed.

"You should have seen her face when she saw him! I stood right there in plain view of her, Guy, and it was as if I were invisible to her! The look she gave him – it was pure love and adulation! It made me sick!" The Sheriff spat.

"No. No…not Lady Rhiannon." Guy said in disbelief.

"You're damn right!" The Sheriff hissed. Then he began to pace. He was beside himself, Guy noted. The Sheriff began to speak rapidly as he recited some of the story: "And then I caught her, cousin – sneaking into the dungeon, straight into this cursed little ferret's cell so she could steal a visit with him!" The Sheriff spat in disgust.

"How on earth did she get past the sentry and your jailer?" Guy asked, incredulous.

"She was dressed in _**my**_ clothes. She had some of them tailored to fit her! Alas, her plan was carefully masterminded by her…well, you tell me: am I wrong to think she must have loved him? Or more to the point…_** still **_loves him? God!" The Sheriff huffed.

"No. I can see your point." Guy agreed.

"And then, she acted like the victim, naturally. Now she wants me to arrest her, and sentence her to the same fate as the kidnapper! Curious, don't you agree?" The Sheriff asked as he narrowed his eyes.

Guy shook his head in amazement. He could not believe what he was hearing.

"And then, another very strange thing happened, apart from Rhiannon. Someone went to great lengths to try to trick me." The Sheriff hissed.

"What happened?" Guy asked.

"Last night, I had a visit from… I do not know her name! But…she was the most ravishing creature I have ever seen." The Sheriff said. He closed his eyes while remembering her.

"A courtesan." Guy guessed.

"The most beautiful, damned…Gah! Courtesan I've ever laid my eyes upon! Indeed, cousin." The Sheriff said.

"How beautiful?" Guy asked.

"Put it this way – she was so beautiful she almost succeeded in making me forget Lady Rhiannon." The Sheriff said with his eyebrow raised knowingly.

Guy swallowed.

"Well, it turns out someone sent her to me. She said it was one of my Knights. I don't believe it, though."

"How far did it go?" Guy prodded.

"It went far. But not far enough. I stopped her. I was just about to take her…" The Sheriff said.

"Oh." Guy muttered.

"If you could've seen her, Guy." The Sheriff whispered.

"She was unlike the others I take it? I've never heard you speak of a courtesan in terms of her beauty before?" Guy remarked.

"Indeed. It was like…she was handpicked." The Sheriff said as he narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. "By someone who knows…me." The Sheriff swallowed. "Knows what I…like." The Sheriff mused. Funny… the woman just happened to be wearing a gown in the colour he liked best on… Rhiannon. His eyes widened. He felt sick.

"Cousin? What is it?" Guy asked.

"I think I just figured out who hired the wench to come to me. Well…if that was happiness, I guess I had it." The Sheriff lamented shaking his head.

"Are you going to go to her?" Guy asked.

"Of course I am. Even though I know it will be pointless. But I must try." The Sheriff said. "Oh, and one more thing. I had Luke take over your duty of overseeing the dungeon while you were gone. You are back in charge, but I want Luke to continue the interrogation with the lady tomorrow. He seems to be making some headway with it." The Sheriff said.

"Very well." Guy agreed.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An hour later the Sheriff was standing at the door of Rhiannon's estate.

Lady Rebecca opened the door. She was startled when she looked up and saw who had been knocking.

The Sheriff ignored her and let himself in. Lady Rebeccah tried to block his access.

"I shall wait for her if I have to. Move out of my way!" The Sheriff demanded.

"Rebeccah? Who is here?" Lady Rhiannon called. She walked down the hallway in his direction. She looked up and gasped, and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Leave us, Rebeccah." She said, never taking her eyes off the Sheriff.

Rebeccah obeyed.

"Are you here to take me as your prisoner?" Rhiannon asked.

"What? No! Of course not." The Sheriff said.

"Then what do you want with me?" Rhiannon asked.

The Sheriff walked toward her slowly. "What do you think, Rhiannon." He asked, quietly.

"I don't really know anymore. I think you and my – " She stopped herself from saying 'brother'. "My friend are only interested in tormenting me!" She exclaimed.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes. "Why can't either of you just say it?" He snapped.

"You're very wrong with your assumption. And you shall feel like a fool when – " She blurted but stopped herself just in time. She was saying too much. Robert asked her not to, and now she was beginning to wonder if Robert's guess about what would happen if they revealed the truth was right?

"When…what?" The Sheriff asked pointedly.

"When you know the truth."

"Right. Speaking of honesty…" The Sheriff began. "I know about your little _**gift**_ you sent me." The Sheriff said with his eyebrow raised.

Rhiannon swallowed. The colour left her face.

"Why would you do this? If you loved me so much, why would you wish to tempt me?" the Sheriff asked gruffly. "Let me guess – so I could fail? So it would be a perfect excuse to run into the arms of Whitfield? He is doomed, Rhiannon! You're a fool! You're consorting with a man who will be sentenced to die!" The Sheriff barked.

"Yes…my _**gift**_ to you." Rhiannon mused. She folded her arms and her eyes began to glisten with tears. She looked into his eyes praying that he could look her in the eye and say he never touched the courtesan. "I heard all about it. Every ugly, graphic detail." Rhiannon said as she glared at him.

The Sheriff drew in a breath. He knew it! The courtesan must have lied. Damn the wench!

"You heard wrong whatever you heard." The Sheriff muttered.

"No I didn't! You fucked her!" Rhiannon shrieked.

"What! I did not – "

"Everything she said – sounded exactly like you! Let me see… What did she say you said to her?" Rhiannon taunted. "Yes…she was 'wet' and… 'so tight.' God! How could you?" Rhiannon demanded.

"I did _**not**_ take her. I pushed her off of me! Yes it's true – I came close because I was furious with you. But I stopped her. I wanted her to be _**you**_! God, Rhiannon! What has gotten into you? Why are you trying so hard to keep us apart?" The Sheriff demanded as he put his hands upon her shoulders.

"Because…I have no choice! I have never lied to you – not about anything consequential anyway. If you want to know more, ask my _**friend**_ in the dungeon. Because frankly… I'm sick to death of covering for him!" Rhiannon shouted.

The Sheriff regarded her strangely.

"The two of you are so alike! Both of you opinionated…obstinate, and insufferable creatures!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Really?" The Sheriff remarked sarcastically.

"And you and I might have had a chance, but you destroyed it when you took the courtesan into your bed!" Rhiannon seethed.

"I did not take her in the – I did not take her _**to**_ my bed!" The Sheriff stammered. Curses!

"See? You just admitted it!" Rhiannon challenged.

"Shut up!" The Sheriff barked. "You're wrong. You couldn't be more wrong." He said with his arms folded.

"Oh, I'm _**wrong**_ alright. I am wrong for ever bothering to speak to you in the first place! Now go!" Rhiannon demanded.

_No. Don't go. I love you. Do not listen to my words. Look into my eyes and you shall know the truth. George!_

He turned and left her. After the door closed behind him she collapsed on a nearby chair and sobbed relentlessly until she finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later the Sheriff was sitting in the den drinking a few goblets of brandy in quick succession. How did it all come to this? Now – of all times! His son was home, but now it looked like Rhiannon was terminating their entire affair. She wouldn't listen to anything he had to say. She refused to answer his questions. She refused to admit she was Whitfield's lover, even though it was bloody obvious! And she was the one who hired…

The courtesan. The beautiful courtesan. What was her name? The Sheriff wished he knew. He got up and staggered to his desk. He found his quill and dipped it into the ink jar and quickly penned a note. Then he opened the door and asked the sentry to send for the Scribe.

Twenty minutes later the Scribe answered the summons.

"Yes, my lord." The Scribe asked.

"Get in here. I have a task for you." The Sheriff said as he grabbed him by the arm to lead him inside.

The Scribe obeyed. After the door was closed the Sheriff turned to the Scribe.

"I need you to deliver a message for me. I don't wish to send my page. It is a delicate matter and I do not trust that mouthy little runt to do this!" A beat. "And you know better than to question me." The Sheriff said with his eyebrow raised.

"Indeed, my lord. Whom is the recipient then?" The Scribe asked.

"You are to give it to Madam Birghiva." The Sheriff said.

"The uhm…Madam of the brothel, sire?" The Scribe asked.

"The one and only. But… tell her to give this to the consort who came to see me last night." The Sheriff instructed as he held out the scroll to the Scribe.

"Shouldn't I just give it to her then?" The Scribe asked, bewildered.

"No. Because…I do not know her name. But Madam Birghiva will know." The Sheriff said.

"You wish to see a courtesan, my lord?" The Scribe asked, rather astonished. This had not been a habit of his master's for at least two years!

"Don't look at me like that! Do not question me – just do it!" The Sheriff barked as he swatted the Scribe on the head with the scroll. "Oh…and not one word of this to anyone. Not one blessed soul! Do I make myself perfectly clear?" The Sheriff demanded as he leaned in toward him and bore his steely gaze into the Scribe's eyes.

"Yes, sire. Very clear." The Scribe nodded.

'Now – make haste at once!" The Sheriff ordered. The Scribe took the scroll and departed from the den.

Nothing had been going right lately, except that his child had come home. His affair with Rhiannon seemed to have fallen apart. He was angry, and then a beautiful courtesan appeared. Even though she was sent by Rhiannon the first time, this time she would work for the Sheriff. She had wanted him.

No, Rhiannon, the Sheriff thought. I did not take her, but I think I just will now. The Sheriff grinned.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. This time it was Guy.

"I thought you might still be awake. Just came to ask if it's alright for Madam Oberon to remain here at the castle. I shall be paying her of course – to serve my lady." Guy explained.

"Yes, of course." The Sheriff said. His eyes were glassy. He was also having trouble removing the smirk off his face at the thought of his next session with the beautiful consort who called herself his 'fantasy'. Hmm…maybe she was?

"You seem preoccupied, cousin?" Guy said.

"Come and share a goblet of brandy with me." The Sheriff said beckoning for him to come inside.

Guy entered into the den. The Sheriff poured a measure of brandy in a goblet and gave it to him.

"Did you see her?" Guy asked.

"Yes. It appears to be over." The Sheriff said as he took a sip of his brandy.

"It can't be!" Guy exclaimed.

"Indeed. It appears she thinks the worst of me. She heard about my visit last night." The Sheriff sighed.

"But you didn't actually take the consort." Guy pointed out.

"I know that! But she doesn't believe it! She thinks I had a very merry time over here! Oh, if she only knew…" The Sheriff sighed.

"Cousin?"

"We were this close, cousin!" The Sheriff exclaimed as he formed his thumb and forefinger into a small 'c' to punctuate it. "I actually just touched her! I was on the brink of plunging into her, and then I stopped – fool!" The Sheriff spat.

"I have not seen this side of you in years, and especially not since you met Lady Rhiannon." Guy lamented while he shook his head.

"I expected there was a perfect woman for me. But I learned there is no such thing. There are all alike, Guy. They are all only interested in one thing. And I don't mean the same thing we'd be interested in! They don't want me. They want my wealth! I'm not marriage material. I finally see that now." The Sheriff said.

"You must remember: that maiden is only a courtesan. She cannot keep you happy…not like Lady Rhiannon." Guy pointed out.

"True. None of them can keep me happy. But that pretty little consort will surely keep me happy where it counts. The only place it counts – I've found: in the bed chamber. And that is all I want from her. She wanted me, and she shall have me. She shall have my full attention." The Sheriff said as he narrowed his eyes. He took another sip from his goblet.

"You've sent for her." Guy said quietly.

"Yes, if you must know it. But do not breathe a word of this to anyone!" The Sheriff demanded.

"But you love Lady Rhiannon? Your wedding… it was to be in three days!"

"If you had only seen my lady that day, cousin. The way she looked at him! And then… I find her stealing a visit with him in the dungeon! She was standing close to him. She looked as if she was going to touch him!" The Sheriff spat in disgust. "I'm telling you – it does not matter anymore. She loves another, and I'm going mad! A sensual, blue eyed maiden strolled in here last night and she almost made me forget her. I was ready for her. She wanted me. She shall indeed have her wishes granted." The Sheriff winked.

Guy took a sip from the goblet and stared at his cousin. He couldn't believe the change in him in only four days since Guy set out on the mission to Portsmouth.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mistress Celestria came down the stairs to answer Madam Birghiva's summons.

"It seems you indeed made an impression on the Sheriff of Nottingham, Missy! This arrived for you." The Madam said as she handed the scroll to Celestria.

Celestria smiled and took it from her. She practically tore the paper while she hastily pried the seal from it. She unfurled it and quickly scanned the document. She couldn't hide the satisfied grin that spread across her face.

"Indeed. I must have. He has summoned for me!" Celestria exclaimed.

"Interesting." Madam Birghiva remarked as her eyebrow shot north suspiciously.

"Oh, what shall I wear? He refers to the gown I shall choose in this letter! I think he wants me to look special. Oh, I'm glad I have time to decide!" Celestria said as she closed her eyes and held the letter from the Sheriff to her bosom.

"May I remind you that you are his courtesan? You shall never be his lady, my dear." Madam Birghiva cautioned. "And this is why I've always warned you about getting too close! It _**never**_ yields a happily ever after." The Madam reminded her.

"Indeed. I know. But – he wants me. He has asked for me to come to him. And we'll see what else he wants from me after that." Mistress Celestria mused.

"Mmm hmm?" Madam Birghiva muttered.

"I shall please him so completely I'll have him begging for more!" Celestria said as she turned back to retire to her room.

Madam Birghiva reached out and gently grabbed Celestria's arm.

"What are you doing?" Celestria demanded, rather startled.

"Do _**not**_ do this." Madam Birghiva warned.

"Do…what?"

"You know exactly _**what**_! Do not fall in love with him. He shall _**never **_love you. You know this. You are clever! You will only get hurt. Trust me. I know how this story ends… all too well." Madam Birghiva voiced in regret.

"You speak as if you know." Celestria said.

"I _**do**_ know. I fell hard once. Just as you are falling for the Sheriff now. But my lover rejected me. I'm certain he loved me, but it is never appropriate for a man to take his courtesan to be his lady, nor his wife! And you know it will be most inappropriate for the Sheriff. He must conduct himself properly in public. He must maintain decorum! He'll never take you as his lady because he knows that nobody will accept you as such!" Madam Birghiva exclaimed. Had she not taught this maiden anything?

"No." Celestria said. "He wanted me. You should have seen him. I'm going to make him love me." Celestria smiled while she exhaled a sigh.

"No. You shall never make him love you. It is time you accepted it." Madam Birghiva said.

Celestria nodded and tried to appear intent on listening but the truth of it was she chose to ignore everything that the Madam just said to her. Celestria's spirits were soaring and she wouldn't let Madam Birghiva spoil her mood. He sent for her!

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Wednesday afternoon Isabelle looked up. One of the Sheriff's men had just entered into her cell to visit her. It appeared the Sheriff's Scribe accompanied him. She knew exactly why the man was here.

_Just after the peculiar exchange between Robert and the maiden in the hallway on Saturday afternoon, they were finally granted a moment to speak to each other when they arrived to the dungeon. When the Sheriff's men stopped to ask the jailer where they could put the prisoners, Robert stole a glance at Isabelle. He only had a moment so he kept it brief._

"_That maiden you saw staring at me in the hallway… that was my sister." Robert whispered._

"_What? Robert! No!" Isabelle exclaimed still managing to keep her voice down._

"_I think she is the Sheriff's lady. But remember: she is __**not **__my sister. If anyone should ask, you must deny it!" Robert instructed her._

"_Yes." Isabelle said._

"_You will be questioned, so be on your guard." Robert warned._

"It is time for you to speak, my lady." Luke said.

"I have nothing to say." Isabelle said.

"State your name." Luke prompted her.

"Lady Isabelle Whitfield."

"How long was the child in your care?" Luke asked.

"Three months. If you questioned my husband you would know this to be true." Isabelle remarked indignantly.

"Indeed. I did question your husband. Now I just need to make certain you both have your stories straight." Luke winked.

"This is pointless. Listen – that child was placed on our doorstep. We did _**not**_ take the child from the Sheriff!"

"But you did not relinquish the boy when two of the Sheriff's Knights came knocking on your door, did you? You knew then that your charge belonged to the Sheriff and his lady, yet still you said nothing!" Luke demanded.

"Yes. Well…the child was better off with us. I believed that then." Isabelle muttered weakly.

"But…do you now?" Luke asked.

"Yes. I still do. I think…" Isabelle said shaking her head. She was so confused.

"Whose idea was it to take the babe and keep running then?" Luke asked pointedly.

"It was a decision we came to together." Isabelle replied.

"That's good you're choosing to cooperate. The Sheriff may issue you a lesser sentence." Luke said.

"No! You can tell your master that whatever judgement my husband receives he must administer to me. I don't expect him to understand. For surely he doesn't know what it is to love someone so much you'd be willing to die for them. But I am willing! I am nothing without my husband!" Isabelle cried. She turned to the Scribe. "Make sure you get that down!" She shouted.

"The Scribe nodded and rolled his eyes as he wrote it.

Luke shook his head and sighed.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

While the interrogation was taking place, the Sheriff made another attempt to speak to Lady Rhiannon. One last time he wanted to see if she had changed her mind. He had to know. Because if she would have him, he would ask the consort not to come, and he would bring his lady home. This time it was Rhiannon who opened the door.

"Is it time?" She asked when she looked up at him.

"No. You are not going to be arrested." The Sheriff said.

"Then what do you want?" Rhiannon asked coolly.

"Take a guess." He said.

"You must be jesting! After all of the hateful things you said to me? Please!" Rhiannon sighed.

"This is a misunderstanding, my lady. You know I love you. But you're behaving insufferably! I don't know what I'm to believe!" The Sheriff whispered gruffly.

"The courtesan…" Rhiannon whispered.

"I almost took her because I saw you with him in my mind's eye - in the dungeon! But I stopped. I told you this already!" The Sheriff spat.

"I know that's what you told me, but I don't know if I can believe it." Rhiannon said, her eyes downcast.

The Sheriff let out an audible sigh. Just as he thought! This was another waste of his time.

"This would all be right again if you could just look me in the eye and say to me…you do not love him." The Sheriff said.

"Well I can never say that! I shall always love Robert! Till my dying breath. I cannot explain why." Rhiannon said. She was starting to almost wish that Robert had never been captured. She wished she hadn't seen him. She wished she could just admit that Robert was her brother. But the Sheriff would never believe it, because Robert would deny it! Curses! The Sheriff was making her angry with his far fetched accusations, yet she was trying to toss out clues to him that she loved him. Why wouldn't he take the bait? He was not getting it!

"Right. Well I suppose there's nothing more to say then." The Sheriff said. He searched her eyes with his. She was in fact, pleading with him to understand her. To keep looking until he had his answer, but not to give up. But he didn't perceive it that way. He saw the look in her eyes as fear. The Sheriff sighed. No doubt afraid because she knew the Whitfield character shall hang one of these days!

"Yes." Rhiannon said.

_No, George! Don't give up on me! Don't stop searching for the truth. It shall present itself and you will understand. And you shall see – I love you…deeply._

She closed her eyes tightly to stop the tears that would issue forth. He brought his hand up to her face and caressed her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked upon his a last time. The Sheriff shook his head and gave her a halfhearted smile that hinted of regret. Then he turned and took his leave.

When she closed the door she leaned back into it and began to silently weep. This couldn't be happening! Why had she been put in this situation?

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff had thought of taking a detour to Nettlestone before he went back to the castle but thought better of it. He couldn't look at his son. Not now of all times.

When he arrived at the castle he saw Guy outside of the Council Quarters.

"Oh, good. There you are! Listen. You're in charge now. I'm retiring to my chambers. I plan to get very. Very. Drunk." The Sheriff smirked with his eyebrow raised.

"I uh…take it it didn't go very well?" Guy guessed.

"As I said: I plan to get very…drunk." The Sheriff repeated as he rolled his eyes.

Guy stood staring, shaking his head, as he watched his cousin head toward the stairwell that would take him to his rooms.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Celestria looked upon her reflection, pleased with how it all came together. She had stained her lips a neutral shade and glistened them with oil. Her hair was curled and danced upon her shoulders. She was satisfied with the gown. It made her seem to glow like the orb of the moon. She picked up the note on the table nearby and smiled. She read it again…

"_Tuesday 23__rd__ September, 1197 Anno Domini_

_To My 'Fantasy';_

_I do not know your name, but I know I must see you again._

_Come to my chambers tomorrow at moonrise. Do __not__ wear a gown the same colour as the one you wore last night. Otherwise I leave it to you to choose. Whatever you choose, just make sure that it can be easily removed._

_You and I have some unfinished business we need to take care of._

_You are instructed now to burn this letter. Do __not__ fail me on this._

_- Nottingham_

SHERIFF & CHIEF CONSTABLE"

"Not yet, Sheriff." She whispered. "I shall cherish this letter instead. Just for a little while." She picked it up and kissed it, then she concealed it under her mattress.

She glanced out of her window. She sighed. The moon was just peaking over the dark silhouette of trees against the purple sky on the horizon. It was time…

She picked up a vial of a potion she had taken from a northern outlaw she had been with. He had shown it to her one night when he was showing off about how he managed to pull off his robberies. He had confessed he used this drug to control his victim's minds. Once they were given it, they would never put up a fight while he robbed them! Radulphus was his name. She liked him because he was dangerous and exciting. She always did have a propensity for the villainous types. He was tall, dark, and gorgeous just like the Sheriff of Nottingham. But one night, Radulphus handled her quite roughly. She didn't like it. So later while Radulphus lay sleeping, when Celestria found the vial which fell out of his coat pocket when she moved his coat off the chair to sit down – she had an idea. She would taint his ale with it next time he came to see her. Because deep down, she wanted him to come back. But he never did. And now…it would serve a greater purpose! Because next to the Sheriff of Nottingham, Radulphus didn't even measure the amount of a rat's backside! And up until now, Radulphus was the one she pined for. I was such a fool! Celestria thought. And then she thought of the night ahead of her, and she smiled warmly.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff was in the den pacing. He was on his third libation of brandy now and he was drunk. He already had a goblet waiting for her. Should I have done this? He thought. Yes. Rhiannon loves your prisoner. She rejected you. But this maiden… this beautiful consort wants –

There was a knock on the door. He put his goblet to his lips, took a long draught, then walked slowly toward it.

She was a vision. Her gown was crushed velvet in a silver colour. The sheen of it made the gown, indeed, all of her – glow. As with the other one, it laced all the way down in front with black leather strings. It had a low scoop neckline and her breasts peaked above the edges of the bodice. Her hair was curled and the shiny waves danced upon her shoulders. She fluttered her dark lashes and made obeisance to him.

"Come." The Sheriff said as he held the door open for her. She had her head bent down. He licked his lips. She looked up briefly and smiled then followed him.

He picked up the goblet he had waiting for her and gave it to her. She took it and looked up at him.

"So… what are the rules?" She asked right on cue.

The Sheriff gave her a piercing gaze as he spoke. "This is what it is, nothing more. Just so you don't have any illusions about this little arrangement. You work for me now. I trust you won't reveal anything of what goes on here to anyone?" He said with his eyebrow raised.

Celestria shook her head. "I won't." She said.

"That's good, because you see, I'm very good at covering my tracks. So if I found out you told anyone, well – that wouldn't be good for you." The Sheriff said as he stroked her cheek.

"Yes." She murmured.

"Did you burn the letter?" He asked.

"Indeed." She lied.

"And whatever you do, do _**not**_ love me. I'll break your heart like it was a toy." He whispered.

She leaned in and kissed his neck, then his ear. "Absolutely, my lord." She breathed in his ear. "You have my word."

He put his hand on the back of her neck and looked into her vivid blue eyes.

"What is your name?" The Sheriff asked.

"It doesn't really matter. In these rooms you and I are the same." She whispered.

He sighed. "I must know your name."

"It is…Celestria." She said.

"Like a star…" The Sheriff mused.

"No, not really." Celestria replied modestly.

"It doesn't matter, because you look celestial to me right now." The Sheriff breathed. He pulled her in close to him as if to kiss her.

"Wait. I thought you said – "

"To hell with what I told you before!" the Sheriff whispered gruffly.

Why couldn't he get this maiden out of his mind since he first met her? Why was he doing this? And then he felt the brandy warm him. He thought he could see two of her. He shook his head. "I was foolishly misguided last time. But now I know what I need. I need to taste your lips." The Sheriff whispered. He pulled her in toward him roughly and kissed her hungrily. They stayed like that a few moments and then she stopped. They were both breathless.

"Why don't you take a seat, my lord? Make yourself comfortable." She winked. She took his goblet from him. He looked at her curiously.

"You need a refill." She said.

The Sheriff smiled. He backed away from her but started to falter. So he turned around and continued slowly to the sofa.

When his back was turned she quickly set the goblets on the table and pulled the vial from out of her bodice. She opened it and drained the contents of it into one of the goblets. Then she picked up the goblet and swirled it in her hand. She tucked the vial into her gown pocket. She topped up the goblets with more brandy then returned to him.

She handed him the goblet of tainted brandy. He took it and smiled. He leaned back against the cushions and stared at her. She came toward him and sat down beside him.

"A toast." Celestria said, holding her goblet up in front of him.

"Indeed." The Sheriff said. "What are we toasting to?" He asked.

"Our… arrangement." She winked.

He smirked then made contact with her goblet with his. "To our arrangement." He said.

They each sipped from their goblet. He couldn't take his eyes from her.

"You are indeed a vision." The Sheriff said.

"Drink, my lord." Celestria said. "You need to relax."

"No. You drink. You have a lot of catching up to do and it might be more interesting if you are in the same place I am in." He grinned knowingly.

She smiled. She raised the goblet to her lips and downed the contents. Then she put it down on the table in front of him.

"Turn your back to me, then lean back against me." She said. "You're so tense. I know exactly how to fix that." Celestria purred.

"I'm sure you do." The Sheriff winked. He turned his back to her and leaned into her. She slowly eased his robe from his shoulders then applied her hands to his neck and shoulders and began to massage his aching muscles.

"That feels marvelous…" The Sheriff murmured.

"Drink…" Celestria said.

The Sheriff closed his eyes as he continued to sip the brandy. He smiled and leaned his head back. Everything felt so… light. Like he was outside of his own body. He couldn't will himself to move. Not now. He felt like he was floating. She leaned down over him, her hair swept over his face. Roses. It smelled so much like roses…

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff sighed.

"She is not here, my lord. It is I, Celestria."

"Oh, Rhiannon." He murmured.

Celestria frowned. This wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but maybe she could make this work?

"Yes?" Celestria whispered.

"I want you… now." The Sheriff breathed.

"Patience, my lord." Celestria whispered. "You're not quite relaxed enough…yet. Drink your brandy, it will help." She said.

The Sheriff smiled serenely with his eyes half closed and obeyed. She continued to expertly knead the muscles of his shoulders and strong arms. His muscles were taut, but soon she had loosened the knots with her expert touch. He sighed. He felt so… awakened, yet relaxed all in the same moment. He liked how this tincture of rapture was making him feel. Or was it the massage from… Rhiannon? Why did the brandy never make me feel like this before? He wondered. Oh, yes – because this is the most I've sampled of the new one at one time! He looked across the room. He truly felt like he was in a dream, because everything became blurred just like in his dreams. Like he was looking at everything through a thick fog.

He leaned his head back and looked up. He stared into the mistress' eyes.

"Who are you?" The Sheriff asked faintly.

"You summoned for me, my lord. Remember?" Celestria said.

"Oh. Right." The Sheriff said.

_Did I really do that, Rhiannon? I meant to. Oh, I'm glad I thought of it! _ He lifted the goblet to his lips and sighed. No. It wasn't Rhiannon. He remembered. He straightened up and turned around to face the courtesan. Everything around her started moving. Her hair looked to be moving. The light from the candles on the candelabra nearby reflected on her silver gown, which made it appear as if sparks were dancing from it. He studied her. Her hair… it was dark and wavy like… his. Her lips were full, and she had high cheekbones and a long neck. They reminded him of Rhiannon. And her eyes contrasted to her hair. He sighed. _If I were given a daughter instead of a son… would she look like __**that**__ in the future?_ He shook his head slightly to bring himself back to reality. He wasn't drunk enough for this… apparently. As he narrowed his eyes while regarding the beautiful mistress, he quickly brought the goblet to his lips and took a long draught until he finished it. He handed it to her.

"Why don't you get us a refill? I'm not drunk enough, and neither are you." The Sheriff winked.

"As you wish." Celestria purred. She reached over and ran her hand softly down his arm and to his hand before she took it from him.

She walked over to the table where the flask of brandy was waiting. Then she took the goblet back to him but remained standing.

"Mistress Celestria…the star." The Sheriff murmured.

"No. Not a star. True I've been undressed by Kings, but I have witnessed things a maiden should never see." Celestria said.

The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north as he stared into her eyes. _No. This isn't right. I need to get rid of her. I don't want her, I want my lady! _But then everything became blurred again, and he couldn't will himself to speak. _Rhiannon! I knew it was you... _She set her goblet down and then Mistress Celestria began to slowly unlace the laces that held her gown closed. Then she had it opened completely but she chose to keep the gown on. She leaned forward and placed her finger into the wine. Then she brought it to her lips and began to slowly lick it and then suck on it. The Sheriff swallowed as he watched her. Mistress Celestria stopped a moment and stared intently into his eyes, then she slowly lowered her hand until she was at the level of the top of her thighs, and she began to touch herself intimately, moaning as she began to please herself in front of him.

The Sheriff let out a gasp. He quickly put his goblet down and went to her. He flew to her fast as lightening.

"Do you want me this time?" Mistress Celestria asked as she cast him a smoldering gaze when he was just inches from her.

He was breathing rapidly as he stared into her blue eyes. Or were they green? Everything became foggy again.

"Oh, my lady, you know I do. I never stopped wanting you…my… Rhiannon." He breathed.

"I know…" Celestria said. She swallowed.

He moved in closer and pulled her toward him. He began to kiss her and ran his hand down her body until he found the place between her thighs. She was ready for him.

"Oh, my angel." The Sheriff breathed.

Celestria was unlacing his breeches. She quickly pried them open. The Sheriff was backing her up toward the wall behind her as he kept kissing her. Finally her back touched it. He pushed her against it. His left hand was exploring her breasts, and hastily pulling the gown from her. His right hand was continuing to please her. He bent down and took her nipple into his mouth. He was hard for her. He wanted her.

"Rhiannon…" The Sheriff breathed.

Celestria sighed. Curses! She wanted him so damned much! She would have him. He would get over the cursed wretch! He would have to when he realized that it was not his lady he took, it was his courtesan!

"I want you… my…" Hmm. What would Lady Rhiannon call the Sheriff in a moment like this? Celestria wondered. "I want you, my love." Celestria purred.

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff whispered as he kissed her.

Celestria raised one of her legs and twined it around his thigh. She used it to bring him in close to her and glided it slowly up and down his leg.

"Take me now." Celestria demanded.

He moaned as he closed his eyes and plunged into her. She felt so good. She was so ready for him. He smiled. His lady had been wanting him too. She loved him. Rhiannon loved him…

Celestria clung unto him as he took her wildly and passionately against the wall of the den of his private chambers. He kissed her neck and kept breathing the name of his lady repeatedly. She blinked away tears. She wanted him, and even though he was indeed pleasuring her, the Sheriff thought he was making love to Lady Rhiannon. The drug worked on him in a most unexpected manner. His lips moved toward her cheek.

"Do not cry, my angel. We are together now. Always…" The Sheriff said. And then he began to kiss her lips as he continued to thrust inside of her.

"My love…" Celestria moaned. "Give me all of your love."

He stopped and led her into the bed chamber. Then he took her to the bed. He threw her on the bed and turned her over. He came up from behind her and took her again.

"I knew you would come back to me." He whispered into her ear.

"My lord!" Celestria cried out. He was just as she imagined he would be – a perfect lover. There was only one thing that was ruining everything…

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff whispered.

It was sometime near the witching hour that the Sheriff woke up. He smiled when he opened his eyes. He turned on his side to face her.

"My lady, Rhi – "

What the hell? This wasn't Rhiannon! Oh... no. He thought. I didn't just do what I think I did? He remembered summoning the courtesan. He remembered inviting her in. He remembered her saying her name. Then he heard her voice echoing – the last words he remembered her saying: _"… I've been undressed by Kings, but I have witnessed things a maiden should never see."_ But he couldn't remember a damn thing after that! How the hell much did I drink? He cursed himself.

The Sheriff's jaw flew agape. It appeared as if he took the courtesan. They were both lying naked in his bed! He touched her shoulder and began to shake her.

"Celestria." The Sheriff said.

She opened her eyes and looked into his. She smiled.

"You must go." The Sheriff said sternly.

"Look, I didn't expect champagne and promises, or even a bouquet of roses from you. But is it really necessary for you to cast me outside in the dead of night?" Celestria demanded as she sat up.

The Sheriff's left eyebrow shot north. "I'm sure it won't be your first time. You should be used to this by now… shouldn't you?" He remarked coldly.

"Well at least I got further than I did with you the last time. Perhaps next time you will permit me to stay until dawn." Celestria said as she began to dress.

"I wouldn't hold your breath." The Sheriff huffed. He grabbed his robe from the foot of the bed and threw it on, then he got out of the bed.

"You'll summon for me again. I know you will." Celestria smirked. She was tying the laces on her gown and walking toward him. She stopped when her breasts were still visible and reached out to him. She moved in closer and pressed her breasts into his smooth chest and looked up into his eyes as she embraced him. She ran his hands up and down his back.

"I pleased you, my lord. I know you will want more." Celestria whispered.

"We shall see about that." The Sheriff said. "You remember what I said about keeping this confidential?"

"Yes."

"I told you I was very good at covering my tracks – do you remember?" He asked with his eyebrow raised.

"Yes." Celestria said.

"The general rule of thumb with me is that… the punishment for betrayal is death." He said calmly.

Celestria swallowed.

"I do not like doubt. I don't want to doubt that you will open your mouth for whatever self serving reason and disclose what we just did in this chamber. If I find out that you told anyone, that shall be the last time you speak. In fact the last time you breathe. Do I make myself clear?" The Sheriff demanded as he bore his eyes into hers with a piercing gaze.

"Crystal clear, my lord." Celestria said.

"And if I find out you lied to me about burning my letter – "

"No, my lord. I did not lie to you… about anything." She said with her eyebrow raised knowingly.

"Good. Because if I ever find you tried to trick me, you shall die. I can't promise you anything, but I can promise you _**that**_" The Sheriff said evenly.

Celestria nodded then took her leave.

He began to pace around his chambers. He didn't think he would do it. Once again, after the courtesan was inside his rooms, he wished for his lady to be there instead. He wanted Rhiannon. He truly loved her and couldn't get over her. But why? Why did he take the consort? He remembered feeling very strange. More strange than he ever felt before from overindulging on brandy.

Suddenly he heard a noise. He kicked something on the floor with his boot while he was pacing. His eyes caught light reflecting from a shiny object on the floor. He bent down to it. It was a vial. It must have fallen out of Celestria's gown! He carefully uncapped it, then sniffed it. He tilted his head back and brought one of the last remaining drops onto his tongue. He spat.

"That bitch!" He exclaimed aloud. "She bloody well tricked me!" He threw the vial angrily against the wall.

He doubted she would be so bold as to report this to Lady Rhiannon. Not after his warning. It was too late anyway because Rhiannon already believed he had been intimate with Celestria! Celestria would pay for tricking him. But, whether or not he did so willingly, he now knew he was unfaithful to his lady. He didn't know if he would ever be able to look her in the eye?

He groaned like a wounded animal and kicked a chair that was placed near the bed. He threw his head back then and sighed. _Oh, my Lady Rhiannon. What have I done? What I have I done to you? What have I done to…us?_


	6. Chapter 61

On Thursday morning the Sheriff and Guy were in the Council Quarters waiting to meet with the Scribe and Thomas Crumwell. From there they would all proceed to the blacksmith's quarters and the physician would examine Stephanus. The Sheriff would have his answer today.

"So, cousin…do you wish to tell me? I'm assuming it was last night when you summoned for the mysterious courtesan?" Guy asked tentatively.

"Yes. It was. She came to see me last night." The Sheriff said quietly.

"So, what happened?" Guy asked again.

"Nothing really happened, at least in my mind. Yet…it did." The Sheriff replied shaking his head.

Guy shook his head, bewildered. "Say that again, cousin?"

"I took her. Apparently we had a very wild time in my rooms!" The Sheriff exclaimed, still amazed that the consort could so cleverly fool him. "But I do not remember it."

"You were drunk. You did say that was your plan." Guy pointed out.

"No, Guy. It was more than that. The last thought I remember was thinking I needed to get rid of her. That it wasn't right. I remember thinking I didn't want her. I wanted Rhiannon. But I don't remember anything after that. And it's not just because of the brandy I drank! She tricked me! She bloody well drugged me!" The Sheriff spat.

"What?" Guy asked, incredulous.

"Indeed. I found the vial of her cursed poison! It explained everything! It was left in my room. It must have fallen out of the pocket of her gown! She was determined when she came to my quarters last night. She was determined that I would indeed take her!" The Sheriff hissed.

"How peculiar? Do you think she loves you?" Guy mused.

"Are you jesting? Wake up, Guy. What did I just tell you recently? What do most maidens want from me?" The Sheriff asked with his eyebrow raised.

"What does lying with you have to do with getting her hands on your wealth?" Guy asked.

"Huh! She must desire to have my child! In her twisted little mind, she thinks that's the only way I would have her – if she gave me a child! Little does she know, it might have worked on me a few years ago before I already had one!" The Sheriff exclaimed. "Hmm. Then again… I doubt it. I would have hated her for trying to control me and I swear I would've ran her through!"

"Are you very certain that you… took her?" Guy asked. "Perhaps she only wants you to believe it?"

"No. I am certain. When I awoke in the dead of night, she was lying beside me in my bed. Neither of us was dressed. I'm sure I did." The Sheriff said. "But I do know one thing, though I don't really know how: I believed I was intimate with my Lady Rhiannon."

"Doesn't sound to me like you were really unfaithful to her then." Guy said.

"I wish I could believe it, but of course I was. It turns out I didn't really want to be, but I was! Curses!" The Sheriff spat.

"You realize you love her. You truly love your lady. That's all that matters." Guy reassured.

"There's more than one of us in this party. What about her, Guy? She was willing to have me arrest her for love of that cursed prisoner whose waiting for his end in my dungeon!" The Sheriff exclaimed.

"You need to talk to her. You're driving yourself mad!" Guy said.

"I can't look at her right now. She's very astute - you know that! One look in my eyes and she will know. Even though I'd give anything to go back in time – to the part where I would've told the consort to turn around and go home while I closed the door in her face!" The Sheriff muttered as he shook his head.

"What's done is done. But you'll know what to do. You always do." Guy said.

"Oh yes, Guy. I know exactly what to do. I have two ladies I've got some unfinished business with, and you know how I loathe unfinished business?" The Sheriff said as his left eyebrow shot north.

Guy looked at him strangely. He thought his cousin was speaking in riddles.

"One of the ladies shall have my love, if she still deems me worthy. And the other – if you could call her a lady – shall find out what happens when she tries to buy my love!" The Sheriff spat. "Indeed, it's like the consort is trying to own me. She tried to control me! That bitch! She tricked me!" The Sheriff barked as he brought his fist down on the table in a moment of fury.

"What are you going to do?" Guy asked.

"What do you think, cousin?" The Sheriff eyed him knowingly.

Guy swallowed.

"What the hell choice do I have? The useless little whore has proven her cunning – twice! First she lied to Rhiannon about our first encounter. Next she drugged me so I wouldn't reject her a second time! She wants me for something and she appears to be going to great lengths to get it. She cannot be trusted!" The Sheriff seethed. He began to pace. "I cannot believe I fell into her little trap! That scheming. Little. Whore!" The Sheriff barked as he kicked the leg of the table beside him.

Just then the door opened. The Scribe and the physician stood waiting in the doorway.

"It is time for me to examine him now." Thomas said. He was holding what looked to be a rolled up heavy rug in his arms along with his bag.

"What's that for?" The Sheriff asked, pointing to it.

"You'll see." Thomas said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Let's find out if your little procedure worked." The Sheriff said.

The Sheriff and Guy joined them and the four men headed to the blacksmith's quarters.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Celestria was alone in her room. She was holding the Sheriff's letter and looking at it again. She sat on the bed. Her portmanteau was there beside her and it was almost packed. She ran her fingers mindlessly along the parchment over the handwriting… his handwriting. Then she folded it and tucked it in amongst some gowns packed inside the portmanteau. She was suddenly startled by a knock on her door.

"Come in." Celestria called.

Madam Birghiva stood there peaking her head in the door. "There you are! Lord Rothwell has come to see you." Madam Birghiva announced. Then she suddenly noticed the portmanteau lying open on the bed beside the mistress. "What are you doing?" The Madam asked suspiciously.

"Uhm… my mother is unwell, Madam." Celestria lied.

"No she isn't. Why are you running? Did things not go well with the Sheriff last night then?" Madam Birghiva pressed her.

"Things went very well!" Celestria hissed as she arose from the bed. "He loved me totally and completely. He took all of me, just as I knew he would! What I'm doing I need to do… for us." Celestria said vaguely.

"Is that so?" Madam Birghiva said with her eyebrow raised.

"Yes." Celestria replied absently.

"Why? What did you do, Missy, that you feel you must run from him?" Madam Birghiva prodded.

"Nothing."

"Alright. I don't know what you're up to, but I do not like it! I'll cover you for awhile, but you had better get back here!" Madam Birghiva admonished.

"I will. You mustn't worry." Celestria said.

Madam Birghiva exhaled an audible sigh then closed the door. Celestria continued to pack. She knew she had to get away. What was it he said to her? _"…if I ever find you tried to trick me, you shall die. I can't promise you anything, but I can promise you __**that**__." _And Celestria knew that by now the Sheriff probably knew that she did indeed trick him. When she searched for the vial in her gown pockets while walking back last night, she couldn't find it. She knew it must've fallen out of the pocket in his rooms! She couldn't go back for it, so she hoped her mission was successful. She hoped that by the time she saw him again she would have her answer, and then he wouldn't want to kill her… yet. It had to work. It must! She completed her task and closed the portmanteau. She put on her cape and took her leave, not just from the brothel, but from Nottingham altogether.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Stephanus." Thomas Crumwell spoke first.

"Yes?"

"It is time to examine you to see how the healing has progressed." Thomas said.

"Very well. Is my master with you?" Stephanus asked as he held the door open.

"I am here, Stephanus." The Sheriff said. "My Lieutenant and my Scribe are here as well."

"Come in." Stephanus said as he motioned for the men to come inside. He looked in their direction once the door was closed. "What do you need me to do, Master Crumwell?" He asked.

"Come." Thomas said as he put his hand on his shoulder. "Take a seat on the bed facing the window."

Stephanus slowly walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it facing the window. Thomas looked to the Sheriff.

"I need someone to hold this rug up in front of the window. It is a little heavy though." Thomas said quietly.

"Very well." The Sheriff said. He looked to Gisborne and the Scribe.

"Take it from the physician and do as he asks." The Sheriff said.

The men nodded. Thomas moved in to speak with Guy.

"Very soon I will ask you to slowly lower it and admit sunlight through the window. But I need it held there for a few minutes first." He directed.

"Alright." Guy agreed. He took the thick rug from Thomas and motioned for the Scribe to assist him in his endeavor. Then he looked back at Thomas. "Why this heavy rug? Why not a drape or – "

"I needed something heavy to completely block out the light. This works best." Thomas said quietly. Then he looked to the Sheriff.

"Grab a torch for me and bring it here, my lord." Thomas directed.

The Sheriff nodded and grabbed a torch from the wall behind the bed. He brought it back and stood beside Thomas.

"Stephanus, tell me, have you been able to see anything in the last day or so?" Thomas asked.

"Yes. Only since yesterday. My vision is back to where it was before the procedure." Stephanus answered.

"Hmm." Thomas murmured. "Close your eyes." He said.

Stephanus obeyed. Thomas nodded to the Sheriff and reached out to take the torch from him. The Sheriff watched intently as Thomas began the examination. Thomas held the torch positioned to the right, bringing it in slowly toward the outer corner of Stephanus' left eye.

"Open your eyes now, and cover your right eye with your hand." Thomas said.

Stephanus did as directed and Thomas began to slowly move the torch in front of his left eye.

"Yes, I can see a light." Stephanus smiled.

"Good. Now close your eyes again." Thomas directed.

Stephanus did so and Thomas switched the torch to his left hand. Then he held it up bringing it in toward Stephanus' right eye.

"Now, open your eyes and cover your left eye with your hand this time." Thomas directed.

Stephanus did and Thomas slowly moved the torch in front of his right eye.

"I think I see something." Stephanus said.

The Sheriff sighed.

"You see it? Or are you responding because you feel the heat?" Thomas asked.

"No. I see something. A faint orange glow, sir." Stephanus replied.

"Right. Close your eyes again." Thomas said. He gave the torch back to the Sheriff, then he turned around to face Guy.

"Bring it down very slowly on my signal." Thomas said quietly.

Gisborne nodded.

Thomas turned back to the blacksmith. "In a moment, I shall ask you to open your eyes again. Are you ready?"

Stephanus nodded.

Thomas held up his hand then he waved his fingers slowly to signal to Guy and the Scribe to slowly lower the rug from the window.

"Open your eyes." Thomas said.

Stephanus opened them and as he did so the rug held up in front of the window by Guy and the Scribe was slowly being lowered to admit light. Thomas waited for a reaction from Stephanus. When the rug had been lowered halfway, Stephanus spoke.

"There. I think I see something now." The blacksmith said.

"What do you see?" Thomas asked.

"I'm not sure, a faint glow I think." Stephanus replied.

"Hmm." Thomas said.

"What is it?" The Sheriff asked.

"It's not good news, I'm afraid." Thomas said.

The Sheriff sighed.

Stephanus shook his head in disbelief. "What – you're saying it was not successful?" He asked.

"Not like I had hoped." Thomas shook his head in chagrin.

"What does that mean exactly?" The Sheriff asked. He tried to conceal his impatience.

"I think maybe the condition was too advanced." Thomas said. He turned back to Stephanus. "You still have some visual capability, about the same as before. That might last a few months." Thomas said.

"And then what?" Stephanus asked.

"And then – I'm sorry Stephanus. You shall be blind." Thomas said gravely.

"No!" Stephanus cried. He looked in the direction of the Sheriff. "My lord? There must be something else? I'm willing to try whatever will work!"

The Sheriff shook his head. This was turning out to be more difficult than he thought. He couldn't imagine being told he shall never see again. To never be able to look upon his lady or his son again. He realized he would rather be dead than be blind.

"I'm sure there is, Stephanus." The Sheriff said. He turned to Thomas.

"Fifty percent success rate! Huh!" The Sheriff spat. "You make the man endure your barbaric procedure, and this is the best he can expect?" The Sheriff snapped.

Gisborne and the Scribe cast glances at one another, both astonished at the Sheriff's compassion for the blacksmith.

"This is unacceptable! You shall refer him to someone else then!" The Sheriff ordered the physician.

"I can't think of anyone who – "

"Do it!" the Sheriff barked. "How dare you be so arrogant as to presume you're the only one capable of helping him! Obviously you're not."

"My lord?" Thomas said, bewildered.

"There must be somebody with an answer! Find him and bring him to me." The Sheriff ordered.

"Very well." Thomas said. He took the rug back from Guy, grabbed his bag and took his leave.

"Thank you, my lord." Stephanus said as he looked in the direction of his master.

"I'll find someone." The Sheriff reassured. "In the meantime, you can resume your duties. You're not blind yet, and I'll have the others in the armoury assist you with the finer points that require a keen eye."

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later the Sheriff was alone in his office. He needed time to be away from everyone. Just for awhile. He thought of the events of the day before. The last words he spoke to Rhiannon. He thought about what she said, and the look on her face when she said the words: _"I shall always love Robert… I cannot explain why."_ And what was it she said before? On Tuesday night when he paid a visit to her manor? He thought about it a few moments as he closed his eyes. Then it came to him and his eyes flew open. _"… you shall feel like a fool when… when you know the truth."_ The Sheriff shook his head. This was all very puzzling indeed. He was beginning to see it now. She was subtly sending out clues to him. But why couldn't she just tell him? Another phrase of hers echoed in his mind. _"… if you want to know more, ask my __**friend**__ in the dungeon. Because frankly… I'm sick to death of covering for him!"_ However it was that his lady and the prisoner knew each other, it was clear that the idea of covering up the truth of it was the prisoner's doing.

The Sheriff stood. He needed to see this prisoner again. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. How do they find me so readily? He thought.

"Enter." The Sheriff called.

The door opened and the Scribe emerged in the doorway.

"Yes?" The Sheriff said.

"Master Luke asked me to bring the notes from the interrogation meetings, sire." The Scribe said.

"Yes. Bring them here, Scribe. This is perfect timing because I was just heading to the dungeon now, and I need you to come with me." The Sheriff said.

"Yes, my lord." The Scribe said. He walked toward his master and handed him two scrolls.

The Sheriff took them and unfurled them, quickly scanning over the documents. The second page was notes from yesterday's session with Lady Whitfield. The Scribe glanced at it from over the Sheriff's shoulder.

"The lady was rather wilful, sire." The Scribe commented.

"Hmm. Yes, I see that." The Sheriff said as he perused the document. His eyes found the notation of her last words spoken in the meeting: _"You can tell your master that whatever judgement my husband receives he must administer to me… For surely he doesn't know what it is to love someone so much you'd be willing to die for them."_ The Sheriff saw those words written there on the parchment and it struck a note with him. He sighed and closed his eyes. Just recently after Rhiannon's unfortunate ordeal, he remembered what he said to her once when she was in a bad way – frustrated from pain and feeling weakened. She was worried she wouldn't be well enough for their wedding. He sighed. The wedding was supposed to be tomorrow. He shook his head. He heard the words he spoke to her then, loud and clear as if speaking them now: _"Don't you see? You already have me, my lady. I am already your husband. I would do anything for you. I would die for you."_ He put his hand to his forehead and shook his head slowly. _I would still do anything for you, my lady. I would still die for you._

"My lord?" The Scribe interrupted him.

"Right." The Sheriff said absently as he looked up at him. "Come. We need to pay a visit to the prisoner who kidnapped my child. I need some bloody answers!" The Sheriff spat.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Thursday afternoon Rhiannon and her lady, Rebeccah ventured to the market in the village to pick up items to be used for the evening meal. Rhiannon didn't really want to go, but Rebeccah convinced her that an outing and some fresh air might make her feel better. She sent Rebeccah off to one of the vendors to pick up some fruit and vegetables while she wandered off on her own.

Rhiannon realized she was the most miserable she had ever been. She believed the way she felt now was worse than how she felt when she was informed Robert had 'died'. She couldn't believe she could feel worse now than when she did then, but perhaps betrayal brought a burden greater than grief. One can eventually resolve grief, but how does one move on after betrayal? Rhiannon wondered. Betrayed by her brother, then betrayed by her betrothed when her brother asked her to cover for him. In the end this was going to cost her them both.

Suddenly she noticed a flash of bright colour move past her. She looked up. Could her eyes be deceiving her? Was that…? She picked up her pace and advanced toward them.

She came up from behind until she was a foot away and tapped the person on the shoulder.

The woman turned around to face her. "Oh!" Madam Birghiva exclaimed, quite startled. "Lady Rhiannon." She nodded.

"I need to speak with you." Rhiannon said.

"It is not seemly for you to speak to me publicly. Don't you know that?" Madam Birghiva admonished in hushed tones.

"Please, Madam." Rhiannon implored her.

"Come with me." Madam Birghiva motioned. She took her to an area where there were various rugs hanging on display at one of the vendors. They hid in amongst them and continued their conversation.

"What can I do for you?" Madam Birghiva asked.

"I need to know. Did Mistress Celestria say anything to you of her visit with the Sheriff on Monday night?" Rhiannon asked.

"She didn't tell you?" Madam Birghiva asked with one eyebrow quirked above her amber eyes.

"No." Rhiannon lied. She had to know the truth. She suspected Celestria would be more willing to reveal the truth of it to the Madam, than in her report to her.

Madam Birghiva sighed. "Nothing happened, my lady." She said matter of factly.

Rhiannon suddenly felt faint. "What?" She asked slowly.

"From what she told me, she tried her best to seduce your betrothed, but he stopped her, and then he sent her away." Madam Birghiva said unblinking.

Rhiannon closed her eyes and sighed. She felt tears of relief forming behind the tightly closed eyelids but she bit her lip, drew in a breath, then opened them again.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Rhiannon asked.

"Oh yes." Madam Birghiva said without a moment's hesitation.

Rhiannon gasped. She felt the colour draining from her cheeks.

Madam Birghiva gently placed one of her gloved hands on Rhiannon's shoulder. "Let me give you some advice, honey." Madam Birghiva said. "If you love that man, you hang onto him. Now I see it wasn't such a wise idea to send my mistress to his chambers to test him." The Madam said shaking her head with a sigh.

"Yes, I see that now." Rhiannon muttered.

"No, my dear, you don't see. You don't even know the half of it."

"What do you mean?" Rhiannon asked.

"Your betrothed is a handsome devil, and very magnetic or so it seems. My mistress is quite taken with him. Hint – she wants to get her hooks into him. It was a mistake to send her." Madam Birghiva lamented. She was certain Celestria's infatuation with the Sheriff would be the ruin of her.

"I never thought – "

"Go to him. Hold onto him, and never let him out of your sight. I've no doubt in my mind she will try something in pursuit of him if you don't. I'm almost sure of it. At least now, you've been forewarned." Madam Birghiva warned. "Now go. You really mustn't be found talking to me."

Rhiannon nodded and made her escape. Nobody had seen them. Good.

As she walked to find Rebeccah she blinked away tears. He looked her in the eye and swore to her nothing happened, yet she chose to believe the lying words of the courtesan. Curses! She should've known! Would he ever forgive her for believing the worst of him? She kept hearing his voice… more phrases he spoke to her echoing in her mind…_ "Nobody will ever come between us… I shall __**always**__ choose you."_ She didn't believe him. Was it now too late?

_George, will you ever forgive me? Oh, my love, what am I to do now?_

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"The key, Joseph." The Sheriff said, holding his palm out in front of the jailer.

"Which one?" Joseph asked.

"The key to unlock the cell door of the skinny little ferret who kidnapped the child!" The Sheriff replied impatiently.

Joseph gave the key to his master. The Sheriff nodded to the Scribe to follow him and together they proceeded to the door of the cell.

He inserted the key and pushed in the door in what was becoming his signature fashion, where the door thudded loudly on the wall behind it to startle his prisoners announcing his entrance.

"I knew you would be back." Robert said as he fixed his blue green eyes on the Sheriff.

"How very perceptive of you." The Sheriff remarked sarcastically.

"What do you want? I've told your Knight everything."

"Really?" The Sheriff sneered as he inched in closer to him.

"Yes, really!" Robert replied unfazed.

"Yes. We got all that noted – your answers regarding holding unto a child that wasn't yours!" The Sheriff spat.

"Oh please…" Robert sighed.

"But what you still haven't answered for me, is the question about how you know my lady?" The Sheriff said pointedly with his eyebrow raised.

"I did tell you." Robert said.

"No. I don't believe you did." The Sheriff snarled. He was inches away from the prisoner with his right hand twitching as it was poised above the handle of his sword.

"Did you speak to your lady about it?" Robert asked.

"Not that it's really any of your business what _**my**_ lady and I speak about – but yes, we did talk about it. And you know what's funny about that?" The Sheriff grinned. "True she admits she loves you for some ludicrous reason, but here's the thing of it – you must have really angered her because she directed me to come and speak to you! And do you know why she asked me to do that?" The Sheriff taunted as he grabbed the prisoner's collar and pulled him roughly toward him.

"No. I can't imagine." Robert replied.

"Because… and I give you a direct quote: she says she is sick to death of covering for you!" The Sheriff exclaimed as he glared at his prisoner. "And why do you suppose that is?" The Sheriff demanded.

"I don't know." Robert shrugged.

"Well, I know. You have forced her to lie for you! Why? How do you know my Lady Rhiannon?" The Sheriff shouted.

"Your... lady…" Robert muttered.

"Yes. _**My lady**_. She will be my wife! Tell me!" The Sheriff barked.

"We grew up together in the village we're from in the north." Robert said. "Childhood friends, nothing more."

"Huh!" The Sheriff retorted. "You are obviously much older than my Lady Rhiannon. Why don't you try again?" The Sheriff demanded, his jaw set in anger.

"It's true. I've known her since childhood." Robert said. He shook his head. "Seriously, what the hell does this have to do with the reason I am chained in your dungeon?"

"I ask the damned questions!" The Sheriff barked. "You answer to me, not the other way around." He swiftly pulled his gauntlet from his right hand with his teeth and used it to swat Robert on his head. "You have brought nothing but trouble since the moment you arrived to me!"

Robert sighed. "Am I charged with kidnapping, or knowing Rhiannon?"

"What the hell – are you deaf? You speak to me when you're directed to!" The Sheriff shouted. Suddenly he remembered the Scribe sitting in the lone chair in the cell. He turned to him.

"Are you getting all of this down? Not that I'm learning anything new." The Sheriff huffed.

"Yes, my lord." The Scribe answered.

The Sheriff turned back to his prisoner. He glared at him a moment. Then he let go of him. He began to pace.

"You're hiding something. There's something else you're guilty of, and she knows what it is. That is why you asked her to cover for you, isn't it?" The Sheriff demanded as he whirled around to face him.

Robert swallowed dryly. "No." He lied.

The Sheriff withdrew the sword from the sheath and quickly charged toward him. He grabbed him by the collar with his left hand and held the blade of the sword close to Robert's neck. It was close enough that it drew a little blood, but not enough to harm the man… yet.

"You lying, worthless piece of rubbish!" The Sheriff spat. "Your time is drawing to a close, in case you've forgotten that minor detail. You had better come up with something a little more believable and original than that before I'm through with you. In the meantime… I have ways of making you talk." The Sheriff grinned malevolently.

Robert swallowed. Was it really worth all of this to not just admit he once followed Robin of Locksley? No – Rhiannon said the Sheriff had the names of the fugitives. It wouldn't take the Sheriff long to make the connection to Rhiannon. Robert couldn't risk putting her life in danger too.

"Joseph!" The Sheriff bellowed after he let go of the prisoner and shoved him back against the wall he was chained to.

His jailer arrived there in moments.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Torture him." The Sheriff said as he pointed to Robert with his sword. He put the sword in its sheath and looked upon the prisoner again.

"You just think on that until I come back." The Sheriff seethed.

He nodded to the Scribe and they took their leave.

Robert sighed. He wasn't sure how to proceed. He was loathed to admit it, but it appeared that the Sheriff was definitely passionate about Robert's sister. But would all that change when the Sheriff found out that Robert and Rhiannon were siblings? Especially when the Sheriff found out that Robert was one in the band of outlaws associated with Locksley?

The Sheriff and the Scribe went their separate ways. As the Sheriff walked the long corridors he barely paid attention to his surroundings. It was obvious that Rhiannon and the prisoner knew each other well, especially for Rhiannon to characterize the man as… hmm. What did she say? Opinionated, obstinate, and insufferable. Curses! Ever since the prisoner and his little lady showed up, his life had taken a turn. Before that, everything seemed be going seamlessly and aimed in the right direction. The only thing that was now resolved, was that his son was home.

His son.

He needed to see him again. Perhaps that might bring him some comfort. Luckily he saw the page as he headed to his quarters and summoned for him.

"Yes, sir?" The paged asked.

"Have the stable master saddle my horse. I need to ride to Nettlestone." The Sheriff said.


	7. Chapter 62

"Well it's about time we were all granted a day off together!" Adam said as he raised a frothy mug of ale to his lips.

"You're bloody right about _**that**_, mate! Nice to be out of uniform. Especially nice not to have to wear that helm." Drake added.

"Indeed." Luke agreed. "I think this is the first I've been at ease in a long time."

"Then drink up, mate. You're falling behind!" Adam said as he patted him on the back.

It was Thursday night. The men were in the local tavern sharing a cup of good cheer and glad to be afforded the opportunity to do so. It had certainly been busy lately at the castle. They sat at a large wooden table. Torches were ablaze everywhere. The tavern was busy this night. Luke looked around and noticed the men and women gathered there. He picked up his mug and took a drink of his ale. Perhaps Adam was right. He could attempt to stop being on guard for once.

Drake and Adam were sharing a laugh over a joke. Luke thought he heard someone mention the Sheriff. He paused to listen again but heard nothing.

"So when was the last time you were out, mate?" Adam asked Drake as he took a sip of his ale.

"A fortnight ago. I was engaged in a wrestling match." Drake replied absently.

"Is that so?" Luke chimed in.

"Indeed – "

"Wrestling? Aye." A man seated behind Drake turned and suddenly spoke. "I challenge you then."

"No. I don't think so." Drake answered. He shook his head to move his long dark hair from his eyes.

"Are ye chicken then?" The burly man asked with a chuckle.

"No." Drake said with a sly grin.

"Go on, mate. It might be fun?" Adam whispered.

Drake looked to Luke who shrugged a response.

"Alright, mate. You asked for it." Drake said. The men stood and moved to another table to proceed with the match. Bets were being placed in the tavern as the excitement there mounted.

A serving wench appeared bringing a tray with another round of libations for the men. Drake and his opponent lifted their goblets and nodded to one another before they drank. Then the match began. Luke stood as a quiet observer while most of the men gathered there to watch were engaged in loud cheers. Which is probably why he heard the men speaking behind him.

"Aye. I'm sure it was the Sheriff who caused it. Who else would have burned down – "

"Place your bets, mate!" A tall man called to Luke suddenly.

"Forgive me." Luke said as he turned to take leave of the man.

He scanned the darkened room that was lit by torches for the source. All he could hear for the moment was the cheering. He shook his head and sighed, moving away from the commotion.

"The key is to play the game right along with him, Ancel. I shall just go along with it."

There it was again. The same man's voice. He _**had**_ heard it! He looked around again. Just to the left of him were two men seated at a table. He recognized one of them, but he couldn't place him right away.

"You've already challenged him about it." The taller of the men said.

"True. But the Sheriff lied to me. He burned down my sister's home. I am a master at deceit too." The man winked to his friend.

And then Luke remembered.

"I know you." Luke said curtly. He suddenly appeared at the table and looked upon the short, stout man with the balding red hair in disgust.

"No. I don't believe you do." The man said.

"Indeed. We met in the courtyard of Nottingham Castle just over a month ago. We were taken to see the Sheriff by his guards over your display that day." Luke remarked with his eyebrow raised.

Hamon took a sip from his ale as he squinted his eyes while he studied the man before him.

"What's it to you then?" Hamon asked gruffly.

Luke leaned down and swiftly grabbed the man by his collar, startling him.

"I heard you a moment ago, speaking ill of my master – and your Sheriff!" Luke spat.

"Huh! He is not my Sheriff. And explain yourself – are you one of his men then?"

"I am one of his knights. Now… shall I call upon my comrades just over there so we can drag you back with us to answer to the Sheriff?" Luke seethed.

Hamon looked at him and smirked knowingly. Just then Luke felt something sharp point into his right thigh.

"I'd let go of him if I were you." The tall man said.

"Indeed." Hamon spoke. "Let's go outside, shall we?" He nodded to his henchman. Ancel moved the dagger away from Luke.

"It will be my pleasure." Luke sneered. He followed the unfortunate looking man and his comrade out of the tavern. He looked over toward Drake and Adam. Fortunately Adam saw him. Luke gave a look of warning and pointed discreetly to the men in front of him.

He followed them out about fifteen yards away from the tavern when the red haired man suddenly turned, quickly drawing his sword while he did so. He walked toward Luke and pointed it at him. Luke drew his sword and held it in front of him.

"You're a fool to serve that man. He burned down my sister's home. I've learned he has done worse things than that but I don't want to spoil it for you too much." Hamon seethed.

"You have no proof. What is your business in Nottingham then?" Luke demanded.

"I'm here to see a certain… maiden." Hamon smirked. He nodded to his tall henchman. "Isn't that right, Ancel?"

Ancel nodded with a knowing grin.

"Well, well, well. What have we got here, mate?" Adam suddenly chimed in as he advanced closer toward the two men along with Drake. Both men had their swords drawn.

"Trouble times two." Luke spat.

"Who are you then?" Drake demanded of the men who had threatened his comrade.

"I'm Hamon." The balding stout man replied. He pointed to his friend. "This is Ancel. And who are you? More of Nottingham's knights, I presume?"

"Yeah! You could call us: terror – times three!" Adam sneered. He pointed his sword toward Hamon. "I'd back off if I were you." He threatened.

"Fine." Hamon said as he lowered his weapon. He nodded to his henchman. "We're leaving, but… oh, do tell your master to be keeping an eye on his belongings now, won't you?" Hamon snorted. Then he turned and took leave with his comrade.

"What the hell did he mean by that?" Drake asked shaking his head.

"I don't know but I do not like it." Luke spat.

"How do you know him, mate? You sure seemed familiar with him?" Adam asked.

"Tell you what, mate." Luke began as he put his sword in its sheath and put a hand on Adam's back. "I'll tell you all about it over a frothy mug of ale. I could surely use one about now."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"My Lord Sheriff." Lady Margaret said. "You've returned."

"Yes. I've come to see my son. How does he fare?" The Sheriff asked. He took off his gauntlets and followed Lady Margaret into Guy's manor.

"He is doing well, my lord." Lady Margaret smiled. "Indeed, he is thriving."

"Good." The Sheriff said. He proceeded up the stairs to the second floor of his cousin's manor. He walked down the hall and then into Guy's chambers. He went over to the cradle and looked down. The child was alert and looking into his eyes.

"My son." The Sheriff whispered. He reached down with both hands and lifted the baby up and held him to him. He walked over to the chair by the window and held the child in his arms looking down upon him.

"I have much to make up for with your mother, my son. But I shall try to make it right." The Sheriff whispered.

The child looked up into the glistening amber eyes. He felt sorrow coming from them. He wriggled and made a sound to let his father know he mustn't feel sad.

"I know you don't know what I speak of." The Sheriff said. "It is best you don't, my son. I will get her back. I shall win your mother back, somehow. I will not fail you." He promised.

He picked up the child and held him to his chest. The babe's head was secure under the Sheriff's chin. The child heard his father's heartbeat. It soothed him. He made appreciative sounds in response to it.

The Sheriff closed his eyes. He could get used to this… the sound of his son breathing and trying to speak. He was so helpless and so trusting of him. It made the Sheriff feel warm and content to feel the love coming from this child toward him. And then he thought of Rhiannon. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath a moment. He loved her more than any being on the planet besides his son. He loved her so much he felt he would explode. Was it over? Was it too late? He opened his eyes. _I guess that will depend on just how much she loves that man in the dungeon. For tomorrow, he shall learn his fate. And soon she shall hear of it too._ He had no choice. It had to be this way. He sighed and shook his head.

"So, do you have a name for him then?" Lady Margaret's voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

He looked to the door. She stood in the threshold observing him. "A name – does he have one?" She nodded to the child in his arms.

"Well, no. I must speak to my lady about it." The Sheriff said.

"When will that be? Hopefully before he learns to talk, I presume?" Lady Margaret said with her eyebrow raised.

"It is fortunate for you that you are skilled and very clever, else I would have removed that sharp tongue of yours a long time ago!" The Sheriff spat. He stood and then put the child in the cradle.

"My lady and I have much to discuss, and I will not name this child without her participation. Now, see to the tasks which are expected of you and stay out of my affairs!" The Sheriff warned before taking his leave.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Friday morning Lady Rhiannon was seated on a chair in the sitting room sipping tea. Rebeccah was just coming into the room. She noticed Rhiannon had been quiet since the day before, when they met up again at the market after going their separate ways. Now Lady Rhiannon appeared rather pale.

"Are you quite yourself, milady?" Rebeccah asked. "You have hardly touched your tea and you haven't eaten a bit of anything."

"Oh… do not mention food, Rebeccah." Lady Rhiannon said. She took a breath and swallowed.

"You haven't eaten since last evening, milady." Rebeccah pointed out.

"Yes. I'm not sure… perhaps it is only my ragged nerves but I feel so unwell. I cannot stand the thought of swallowing anything but liquid right now." Rhiannon said.

"As you wish, milady. If you get hungry, let me know." Rebeccah said.

"Indeed. I will" Rhiannon promised. She stood up and walked over to the fireplace. She felt a chill before, but now she suddenly felt a flash of heat pass through her and she felt very light. She began to sway and reached out with her hand to put it on the wall to steady her.

"Milady?" Rebeccah exclaimed as she came over to her swiftly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm not certain. I feel as if… I shall faint. I think? I don't remember ever feeling like this before?" Rhiannon said as she put her other hand to her forehead.

"Come, milady. You must rest." Rebeccah advised as she guided Rhiannon back to the chair.

Rhiannon sat down. She wanted to sit forward and put her head on her lap. Suddenly she had an image of Lady Meridwyn doing the same thing that day in the gardens. It was the next day she told Rhiannon she was with child.

Lady Rhiannon's eyes widened. _With child. Could I be? Oh, no. Not now! Of all of the cursed times for this to happen!_ She remembered Meridwyn saying she felt like that for days. Rhiannon had been feeling funny off and on for a number of days as well. She was convinced it was a combination of nerves and her recovery from her knife wound.

She would need to see Lady Margaret.

No. Not Lady Margaret. Not a midwife. It would draw attention to her. Thomas Crumwell. Surely he would be discreet? She could use the pretense that he needed to follow up on the healing of her wound! But she couldn't ask the Sheriff to summon him. He might figure it out. He was a very clever man.

Meridwyn! She could speak to her at mass on Sunday. And hopefully by Sunday night, she would know whether or not she was carrying the Sheriff's child.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff opened the door of the Council Quarters at midday. Guy and the Scribe were waiting for him.

"You two ready for more unpleasantness?" The Sheriff asked.

They both nodded.

"You have the scroll for me as per my dictation this morning?" The Sheriff asked the Scribe.

"Yes, my lord." The Scribe answered. He handed it to the Sheriff.

"Good. Let's get this over with then. Hell is sure to break loose after this. Let it begin." The Sheriff sneered.

Fifteen minutes later they arrived to the dungeon. The Sheriff looked to Joseph.

"Good day, my lord." Joseph greeted him.

"Yes. I'd like you to bring Whitfield's lady to his cell. They both shall be receiving the same sentence and I'm only going to read it once." The Sheriff instructed.

"Very well, my lord." Joseph obeyed and went to the lady's cell.

"You have a key, Gisborne?" The Sheriff asked his Lieutenant.

"Yes." Guy said as he held it up to show him.

The three men proceeded to the prisoner's cell. The Sheriff took the key from Guy, unlocked the door and pushed it in with force in his signature dungeon etiquette panache. The door thudded on the wall behind it, but Robert already sensed his presence before the door opened.

"You again." Robert rolled his eyes. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company now?"

"Well, I have good news and bad news." The Sheriff said with his hands clasped in front of him as he walked toward him. "What do you want first?"

"Whatever." Robert sighed. "Clearly, it makes no difference to me."

"Well it should, you cursed insect!" The Sheriff spat. "Alright, first the good news. You shall have a moment to behold your lovely wife." The Sheriff grinned.

"As you torture her, you mean?" Robert spat in disgust.

"Hmm… a good idea but… no! She's being brought here because – now for the bad news: you will both be read your sentence. It is the same one so there's no point in my reading it twice." The Sheriff sneered with his eyes narrowed in malice.

"You're not very good with surprises, my lord. The only mystery that remains for me is – what day will it be?" Robert said facetiously.

"Ah… patience." The Sheriff grinned as he patted Robert's cheek. "Good things come to those who wait."

Just then Joseph appeared with Lady Whitfield. She was struggling to break free from him even though she was bound.

"Ah. There's the lady now." The Sheriff grinned. "So good of you to join us." He said to her as he clapped his hands together.

"What do you want with us?" Isabelle shrieked.

"Take her over to her husband." The Sheriff directed Joseph.

Lady Whitfield was led over to stand beside her husband. She looked up at Robert with fright in her eyes. He was pained to see her this way. It was difficult to see the terror in her eyes… because of him.

The Sheriff reached into his pocket and extracted the scroll the Scribe gave to him. He waved it in the air in front of them.

"Now – your indictment, and your sentence. Do pay attention." The Sheriff sneered. He unfurled the parchment and began to read:

"Whereas Robert Whitfield…" He stopped and looked to Isabelle. "You can insert your name there too, Missy. Your sentence is the same but I'm only reading this one time, so do listen." The Sheriff warned with his eyebrow raised.

Isabelle swallowed dryly. The Sheriff looked once more to the scroll in his hand and continued.

"… of the village of Pocklington in the County of York, being led astray by evil instigations, and treacherously assisting in the abduction and kidnapping of a child, and knowingly separating the child from his lawful parentage; I hearby decree the defendant is guilty of kidnapping. Death is deserved, and judgement is this: the defendant shall be taken to the Village Square at high noon on Wednesday the first day of October, eleven hundred ninety seven Anno Domini. He shall hang until he be dead." The Sheriff stated casually.

"No!" Isabelle shrieked.

"My lord, can you not show mercy? At least for my wife?" Robert cried.

"You two are beyond mercy!" The Sheriff said. "Your sentence has been proclaimed by heralds and published throughout the realm."

"No! Oh my God!" Isabelle screamed. "Robert!" She cried to her husband. "Robert he cannot mean it! Make him listen to you!"

"Dear Zeus!" The Sheriff barked. He put his fingers in his ears. "Joseph, get this shrieking hyena out of here – before my head explodes!" The Sheriff bellowed.

"Robert!" Isabelle continued to scream as she was being led away.

"Spare her. At the very least – spare her!" Robert demanded.

"It is too late." The Sheriff said. He nodded to Gisborne and moved away to allow Gisborne to have his moment.

"We decided we didn't need to come back, didn't we, my lord?" Guy asked his cousin. "Luke gave you all of the information you need?" He added.

The Sheriff nodded.

Guy turned back to the prisoner. "Save it! You had your chance to explain yourself. You admitted to treachery! And now you shall only have one more visit – from the Bishop of Hereford as he offers absolution!" Guy sneered.

Robert shook his head and sighed.

"We're done here." The Sheriff said to his men. He looked once more to Robert. "You shall have another chance to speak when you and your lady stand on the scaffold." He said. Then he nodded to Guy and the Scribe and the three men exited the dungeon.

A short time later he sat in his office. He needed quiet. _I was supposed to be marrying Lady Rhiannon today._ Curses! He needed to keep busy or he would go mad! And then he remembered another matter he had yet to take care of. His jaw set in anger when he remembered it. Just then the door opened.

"I was hoping to find you." Luke said as he approached the Sheriff slowly.

"How did you?" The Sheriff asked as his left eyebrow shot north.

"The Scribe told me he saw you come in here." Luke replied.

"Nosy little ferret!" The Sheriff muttered in disgust. He looked up at Luke. "What can I do for you?" He asked.

"I'm here to inform you of some trouble I came across at the tavern last night, my lord." Luke began.

"I'm listening." The Sheriff said.

"You recall that balding, short – fat red haired man who caused the commotion in the courtyard the day you hired me to serve you, my lord?" Luke asked.

"Indeed, I do, Luke. Homely Hamon. I already have some grand plans for our homely little friend too." The Sheriff grinned knowingly.

"Good to know. Because he was spouting the same rubbish about you last night at the tavern. Drake and Adam were there as well if you need to question them." Luke said.

"What happened?" The Sheriff asked as he stood and went toward him.

"He was speaking to a friend of his about it. I went to him and challenged him. We went outside, then my comrades found us. Then he and his friend took their leave." Luke explained.

"Really?" The Sheriff remarked with his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"He bade me warn you of something rather odd during his parting words, my lord. He said to make sure to tell you to keep an eye on your belongings. Do you have any idea what he refers to?"

"Hmm. How curious?" The Sheriff remarked thoughtfully. "No, I don't know what he means. I wouldn't worry about it, Luke. You saw him in a tavern. The man was probably drunk."

"Perhaps. Anyway, I thought you should know. He says he is staying in town. Says he is here to see a maiden." Luke explained.

"Dear Zeus! You must be jesting? Who would want him?" The Sheriff snorted. "Poor maiden must be blind." He added with a laugh.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Sunday morning Lady Rhiannon sat with her lady servant Rebeccah near the back of the cathedral on the left side. Up ahead in the front right was the Sheriff, with his Lieutenant and Lady Gisborne seated to the right of him.

She closed her eyes and sighed. The Bishop was speaking his parting words but she didn't hear them. Instead she heard Rebeccah give the startling announcement the day before.

"_There is to be another hanging, two of them this time." Rebeccah announced when she came in from running errands._

"_What?" Rhiannon asked._

"_Indeed. The couple charged with kidnapping. They are to hang on Wednesday." Rebeccah said shaking her head._

_Rhiannon felt the blood drain from her face. He is going to kill my brother. I could forgive him for a lot of things, I might even have have forgiven him if he __**had **__been intimate with Mistress Celestria. But I could never forgive him for killing my brother! She felt faint just then and patted her abdomen absently. Then she looked down. I shall have to raise this child alone, if indeed I am with child. And then, a feeling of deja vous came over her. As if those words, that very thought had pervaded her mind once before. But when? How? She'd never given birth before! Maybe she was recalling a bad dream? Oh, what did it matter? Robert was going to hang!_

She looked up. She was embarrassed when she realized she had just missed the part in the service where she was to obediently genuflect, because now the Bishop said: "Go in peace."

She sat a moment not wanting to stand up. He would be coming down the aisle toward her. Would he notice her?

"Milady?" Rebeccah said.

"Wait a minute." Rhiannon instructed.

She looked up. She caught her breath. The Sheriff was directly in front of her coming down the aisle only a few feet away. She looked up. He was looking directly ahead and didn't see her. She bit her lip as she watched him walk by her, then she closed her eyes and sighed.

She waited near the door to the reception hall outside of the cathedral. Finally, she saw Meridwyn coming toward her. Meridwyn saw her and her face lit up in glee.

"Rhiannon!" Lady Meridwyn exclaimed.

"Come. Let's go to the gardens. I have a favour to ask of you." Lady Rhiannon said after they embraced.

The Sheriff and Guy were talking in the reception hall.

"Lady Rhiannon is here." Guy said.

"I know." The Sheriff sighed. He looked downcast. He knew she was seated there looking up at him when he walked by her. He could see her in his peripheral vision. But he couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"She's speaking to my bride at the moment." Guy added.

_And Rhiannon was to be my bride by now._ The Sheriff shook his head.

"Cousin? Are you alright?" Guy asked.

"Just feeling regret that I was supposed to be married for two days by now. Don't worry. I'll get over it." The Sheriff said.

The men headed outside for some air and a change in scenery. It was getting rather stuffy in the reception hall.

"Rhiannon, are you quite yourself? You seem awfully pale?" Lady Meridwyn asked. They were seated at a bench near some roses. Rhiannon looked up and saw a white one. She shook her head. _I was sniffing one when I first met George. When he first… kissed me. Oh…George._

"Yes. I am fine. I just have pain occasionally. You know… that unfortunate knife incident that took place on the eve of your wedding? That is why I needed to speak to you. I haven't seen the physician since long before I left the castle. I need to arrange a visit with him. I do not wish to ask the Sheriff." Lady Rhiannon said. "He is still in charge of your care is he not? If you could speak to –"

"You know I will." Lady Meridwyn smiled.

Just then Rhiannon felt dizziness overcome her and she leaned forward to put her head in her lap.

Meridwyn put her arm around her. "I best summon for him at once. Perhaps you could come to my quarters?"

"No! The Sheriff will know!"

"My dear, of course he knows! He was with you when the cursed wretch put a dagger into your side! You're too unwell to go back to your manor." Meridwyn pointed out.

"Just give me a few moments, I shall be fine." Lady Rhiannon mumbled unmoving from her position. It was making her feel better. She wanted to ask Meridwyn questions about how she felt when she learned she was with child but she couldn't risk the Sheriff finding out about it.

"So I take it we will delay the visit to Portsmouth until after the execution?" Guy asked.

"Indeed. It will still work. The cursed insect is lurking about Nottingham. Luke informed me two days ago. Apparently he's here to see a maiden." The Sheriff chuckled.

"Interesting." Guy mumbled as he looked beyond the Sheriff's shoulder.

"Yes, isn't it?" The Sheriff agreed.

"No. Your lady is looking rather unwell, cousin." Guy nodded behind the Sheriff.

"What?" The Sheriff asked as he turned around. Rhiannon was seated on a bench beside Lady Meridwyn. Meridwyn looked to be comforting her and Rhiannon sat with her head upon her lap.

He walked swiftly toward them. Guy followed close behind.

"My lady?" The Sheriff said as he stood before her.

"Huh! That remains to be seen." Rhiannon said. She looked up at him. Her face was pure white. Tiny beads of perspiration covered her skin.

The Sheriff's eyes widened in horror. "Rhiannon! What is going on? You're as white as the driven snow!"

"It is nothing." Rhiannon shrugged.

"It is _**not**_ nothing!" The Sheriff exclaimed.

"She's coming to my chambers, my lord. I am summoning Thomas to see her." Lady Meridwyn chimed in.

"Well somebody better!" The Sheriff replied curtly. He sighed and looked to his lady. "No. Rhiannon, come to my chambers instead. I shall send for him."

"I don't think –"

"I insist." The Sheriff said. He held his arm out to her and offered it.

She looked up at him. She needed to ask something of him anyway so she took his arm and stood.

They made it just to the den outside of his private chamber when Lady Rhiannon began to falter. The Sheriff swiftly swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

"My lady… you are really unwell!" The Sheriff said as concern spread across his face.

"You shouldn't worry about me, my lord." Rhiannon said.

"I do. Whether or not you wish to believe it." The Sheriff said.

"George?"

"Yes, my angel?" The Sheriff said.

She swallowed. He hadn't called her that in an endearing manner for days and days. How she missed it!

"When the physician examines me, can you leave us alone?" She asked.

"If that is your wish." The Sheriff said.

"I do wish to speak to you afterward." Rhiannon added.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Alright, my lady. That must be Thomas. Just rest." The Sheriff instructed.

The Sheriff was pacing in his guest quarters across the hall. It was so good to have Rhiannon back again – even if for a brief visit. She looked so unwell, however! Was it an infection of some sort? Perhaps her wound was not healing properly?_ Perhaps she could stay here? Maybe I can get her back?_

There was just one loose end to tie up. He shook his head in disgust. He was planning to deal with it two days ago, but apparently the rotten little whore had decided to trick him – again!

The infamous Mistress Celestria, that is. He thought about his visit to the brothel on Friday afternoon.

_Madam Birghiva opened the door. She was about to lose her patience as she was convinced it was Lord Rothwell coming to ask for Celestria again. She looked up and had an even greater rude awakening._

"_My Lord Sheriff." She said, somewhat startled to see him._

"_Madam Birghiva." The Sheriff nodded. He wasted no time with formalities. "Where is she?" He demanded._

"_She left town, my lord. Told me her mother had taken ill." Madam Birghiva reported._

"_When?" He asked._

"_She left yesterday." Madam Birghiva replied._

"_Curses!" The Sheriff spat. He looked to the Madam. "I want you to tell me the second she returns. Am I clear?"_

"_Indeed, my lord." Madam Birghiva said._

The Sheriff shook his head. He was certain the mistress was up to something, but he couldn't think on it now. As if to punctuate the thought there was a knock at the door. He went to it and opened it. It was Thomas. Thomas looked downcast. He was loathed to have to lie to his master, but he swore to the lady he would.

"What is it, Thomas? How does my lady fare?" The Sheriff asked.

"You know she lost a lot of blood?" Thomas reminded him.

"Yes, but that was weeks ago?" The Sheriff said.

"Yes, well, she shall be fine. I am instructing her to drink more wine spiced with cloves to build up her strength. It will help her." Thomas lied. It was true the mixture worked as he explained before, but this was not the problem.

"You're sure she'll be fine? She was as white as the driven snow!" The Sheriff exclaimed.

"She has not been taking proper care of herself. She will now." Thomas said.

"I'm going to suggest she stay here." The Sheriff said.

"Good luck with that. If you cannot persuade her, I have already arranged to look in on her at her manor." Thomas reassured.

"That is good. But I'm still going to try." The Sheriff winked as he opened the door and proceeded to his chambers.

He paused at the doorway to his private chamber leaning into the door frame with his arms folded thoughtfully as he observed her. She looked lovely in the emerald green velvet gown she wore, a perfect match for her hair and her green eyes. Lady Rhiannon was leaned back against several pillows with her eyes closed for a moment. Her right hand was to her forehead. The Sheriff sighed. It was good to have her… home. This was her home. She should be here with him! He walked slowly toward the bed. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"I shall be out of your hair soon." Rhiannon said as she tried to sit up. She made it halfway then felt dizziness again. She fell back against the pillows, defeated.

"My lady." The Sheriff whispered as he put his hand out and touched her cheek.

"I'm alright. Do not worry." Rhiannon said.

He sat on the bed beside her. He wanted to lean down and kiss her. Indeed, he wanted to do more than that! He sighed.

"I want you to stay." The Sheriff said.

"You know I cannot." Lady Rhiannon said, turning her face away from him.

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff said. "Look at me." He commanded her.

She turned back and glared at him. "About the prisoner you have sentenced to hang…" Lady Rhiannon began.

"Here we go." The Sheriff huffed.

"I wish to see him. As you know I'm not into observing executions. I need to say goodbye." She stated matter of factly.

"Why am I not surprised?" The Sheriff remarked facetiously.

"I do not expect you to understand. And I cannot explain it to you. But I must see him. Just for a moment. Please, my lord. Trust me." Lady Rhiannon implored.

"I want to." The Sheriff said, his eyes downcast.

"That is all I ask of you. I just need to say goodbye to him."

"Fine. You can say what you need to say to your cursed lover!" The Sheriff spat as he stood and began to pace.

Lady Rhiannon rolled her eyes and looked away. Would she ever be able to tell him she was carrying his child? She bit her lip to stop the tear she felt forming, threatening to spill onto her cheek.

The Sheriff turned and walked back to the bed. He leaned down to her. "Stay with me." He repeated.

"It's too late." Lady Rhiannon said. "Especially now."

"What do you mean by that? You mean now that your precious Whitfield will be executed?" The Sheriff snarled.

"Something like that." Rhiannon remarked absently. She sat up and tried to get up off the bed.

"You're not going anywhere." The Sheriff said putting a hand on her shoulder to stay her.

"What – you're going to hold me against my will now?" Rhiannon asked.

"Would I be?" The Sheriff asked with his eyebrow raised.

"I must get back home." Rhiannon said. Why did he have to that? That thing with his eyebrow that always made her melt? She wanted more than anything to reach up to him and bring him to her and kiss him. But she couldn't. Not now. Oh, was it wrong to love a man so much who had ordered her brother to die? This was madness. She needed to get out of here!

"George. Take your hand from my shoulder. I really must be going." Lady Rhiannon said calmly.

He sighed. "If it is your wish." The Sheriff said.

She got up and slowly walked to the door. She turned and looked at him once more before she left.

"Rhiannon…" The Sheriff breathed. "I will get you back… somehow."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was Tuesday evening when Lady Rhiannon went to the dungeon to see Robert. The guard unlocked the door of Robert's cell.

"Robert." Rhiannon said softly.

Robert looked up. "What are you doing here? It is not safe!"

"It is alright. I have been given permission." Rhiannon said.

"You did not tell him, I hope?" Robert demanded.

"No. He still thinks we're friends."

Robert chuckled. "He does _**not**_ think we're friends, dear sister."

"Oh, Robert." Rhiannon sighed, her eyes downcast.

"Do not worry." Robert said quietly.

"I'm so sorry!" She cried as she went to him and hugged him.

"It's alright." He soothed.

"I cannot be there tomorrow, brother. You understand? I'd rather not remember you… that way." She said as she dried her tears.

"Aye. I know." Robert said. Then he completely surprised her with what he said next. "You know, I am loathed to say this, but I think he loves you. Even though he doesn't deserve you." Robert spat. He decided not to say anything about the child of the Sheriff's which he was accused of kidnapping. No – he was going to die because of the Sheriff's indiscretion!

Rhiannon shook her head. "It's too late. You know I can never forgive him now." She said. "If I could only say something to make this right for you and Isabelle?" She mused.

"You cannot, Rhiannon!" Robert remarked sharply.

"I know." She wanted to tell him about the child on the way, but she thought it would only make him feel worse that he should never see his nephew or niece, so she decided against it.

"Go, Rhiannon. You look rather tired." Robert said.

"I am a little, but I will never see you again!" She cried. She looked up at him as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"My brave sister, you shall be fine. This isn't goodbye. It is farewell."

"Oh, do not make me cry!" She exclaimed.

They embraced again and then she took her leave. When she returned to her manor she spoke with her staff and insisted they all take leave and return on Thursday. She explained she needed time to herself. She did not go into it further. She could not endure to speak to anyone on the day that her brother she thought was dead – would die all over again!

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was an hour before the execution on Wednesday. People were pouring in past the portcullis to get a glimpse of the execution.

"No bows. No blades. Leave your weapons here!" Drake called out to all the passersby on their way in.

"Do you think we'll see anything?" Luke asked.

"Sure you will." Adam said.

"Tell you what – it will be easier to take than the last one." Drake chimed in, shaking his head.

"Oh, right. The Sheriff's former jailer, correct?" Luke asked them.

"Aye, mate. And that is the reason you never want to get on the Sheriff's bad side." Adam warned as he slapped him on the back.

The Sheriff knew he should probably meet with his staff in the Council Quarters as per usual, and from there they would go to the balcony. He didn't much feel like talking to anyone at the moment. He sat on the sofa in the den sipping his tincture of rapture. He shook his head. If not for the cursed prisoner who was about to hang, Rhiannon would be here with him! Suddenly his boot made contact with something under the sofa. He bent down and reached underneath it. His fingers found something angular and smooth. It was a large object. He grasped it and pulled it out. It was Rhiannon's book – "Lancelot – a Tale written by Chretien de Troyes." He picked up the leather bound manuscript. As he brought it to his lap, something fell out of the back of it. He bent down and picked it up and examined it. It was his proclamation! It was folded precisely to perfectly frame the image of the man depicted there – the Whitfield character who was scheduled to die soon! This was indeed personal to her. She must have known this man intimately to go to such lengths as to secretly keep a sketch of his likeness in the back of a book! No wonder she scurried back to her manor! The lying little wretch! Was she lying to him all of that time? The things he told her of himself. Curses!

And then he sighed as he remembered some of their finest moments. She did seem genuine. She seemed truly passionate and happy. No. She loved him – didn't she? Then it came to him. His eyes widened. _Why did I not think of this before?_ He knew Rhiannon would never admit to him the truth of how she knew this brigand. But there was someone who could give him all of the answers he was searching for.

He shot up from the sofa and went straight to the heavy oak door, down the winding stone steps to his counsel's apothecary. The crone would know. With this sketch in his hand – she would know!

"My child, shouldn't you be preparing to greet your people on the balcony?" Mortianna remarked when she greeted him.

"You might be able to tell me the answer to one of the most important questions I shall ever ask of you." The Sheriff began. "Look, I know you don't like to get involved in personal matters, but I need you to tell me who someone is in relevance to Lady Rhiannon. All of my requests I sought from you since I met her came out of love for her. But I'm bewildered by her behaviour of late." The Sheriff explained. He was surprised at the revealing truths he just shared with Mortianna, but the woman was wise. She might offer an explanation. "If you could tell me who this man is in relation to my lady – if she is still my lady, then I will know how to proceed next." The Sheriff said as he held up his hand with the proclamation dangling from it to show her the image of the man – his prisoner. He gave it to Mortianna.

She took it and invited him to sit at the small table. He followed her lead and took a seat as she went to the back for her implements. She returned to the table with a shiny golden platter, the bone dice runes, and naturally – a vial of snake blood.

She placed the items on the table and put the sketch beside a candle that burned in the center of the table. The Sheriff watched in fascination as she opened the vial and poured the blood onto the platter, then cast the runes upon it. She picked it up and swirled the contents. Her eyes glazed over as she studied them.

"What do you see?" The Sheriff demanded.

Mortianna's eyes widened, her jaw fell slightly agape. She put the platter back down on the table. Then she completely surprised the Sheriff when she arose and slowly made her way toward the back of the room, past her cauldron where her supplies were kept.

"Madam! Answer me!" The Sheriff demanded.

She ignored him and grabbed a flask and two goblets. She returned to the table after what seemed an interminable length of time.

"A sip of wine?" Mortianna asked as she began to pour.

"What?" The Sheriff asked, incredulous. "Tell me now, crone! What do you know?" He barked.

Mortianna sat down and sighed. "You will not like it." She said gravely.

"So they _**are**_ lovers aren't they? I knew it!" He spat.

"No. Worse than that." Mortianna said taking a sip of wine from her goblet.

The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north as he regarded her suspiciously.

"That man in the sketch is Lady Rhiannon's eldest brother, Robert Wordsworth." Mortianna announced.

"No. That man in the sketch is my prisoner – Robert Whitfield!" The Sheriff argued, shaking his head vehemently.

"He lied to you. He is Robert Wordsworth." Mortianna replied confidently.

Robert Wordsworth… Wordsworth… where did he hear that name before?

"You cannot be serious?" The Sheriff said. "You're wrong. Both of her brothers are dead. She told me so herself!" The Sheriff exclaimed. _Did she lie about that too? She lied about everything then!_

"The lady believed he was indeed deceased until the day her eyes looked upon him when he was brought to you by Duke Farnsworth." Mortianna said.

"Impossible! How could – " The Sheriff stopped. He remembered. Robert Wordsworth… one of the wanted fugitives from Locksley's rabble! Oh, dear Zeus! Now it all made sense! That's why he…

"He faked his own death." Mortianna explained. "The vision tells me he did it out of love for her. He dictated a letter to a stranger which was sent to your betrothed two years ago. He did it to protect her." A beat. "From you."

The Sheriff felt the blood drain from his face. He drew in a heavy sigh and closed his eyes as he hung his head. All of this time he doubted her. Doubted everything she said to him, every loving act she ever did for him. There were only two things she ever lied to him purposely about: the potion she hid from him, and the fact that the man in the sketch was her brother. Not her lover – past or present. But she was more willing to hint at that than reveal the truth. Why? He had scheduled her brother to hang this day. Why did she not step forward? To protect him? _Or did she… think I would punish her as well?_ He opened his eyes. _Did she think I would hang her? My beloved… the lady I have always dreamed of?_ He had to know. Was it Robert who implored her not to say a word? Perhaps when Rhiannon was found to have snuck into the dungeon that Sunday morning after the prisoners arrived? They must have spoke of it. Whose idea was it to keep the truth from him? He had to know!

"What are you going to do?" Mortianna asked tentatively.

"First I must stop an execution." The Sheriff said as he reached across and snatched the flask from Mortianna. He put it to his lips and took a long draught.

"And then… I'm bringing my lady home. And I shall marry her." The Sheriff grinned confidently.


	8. Chapter 63

Sir Guy of Gisborne stood on the balcony overlooking the Village Square with the Bishop of Hereford, some of the Barons, a few local dignitaries, and naturally – Lady Gisborne. He was puzzled by his cousin's absence. It was already high noon. He was torn between going to look for him and taking over in his stead. He chose the latter, deciding the first option may be viewed as sign of weakness – that the Sheriff was unreliable.

"Where is he?" The Bishop whispered to Guy urgently.

"I'm sure he just got held up with another matter. He will be here. Do not worry. In the meantime, I'll get things underway for him." Guy said to placate him.

It was another gloomy day in Nottingham for a hanging. The rain had just begun. The crowd below was dressed all in black as they had done at the last hanging in the Village Square, just a little over a month ago. Torches blazed in the courtyard and threatened to extinguish as the rain increased. The people gave a roar to indicate their impatience at waiting for the prisoners.

The Sheriff's Lieutenant stepped forward to the parapet and raised a hand to silence them. He nodded down below to the guards.

"Bring the prisoners out!" Gisborne ordered them.

The drummers began tapping their drums. The portcullis lifted. Robert looked to his left at his Lady Isabelle. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Robert." She whispered.

"It will be alright. It shall be quick." He attempted to soothe.

The guards led them to the scaffold.

Gisborne tapped his boot impatiently with his arms folded.

"Where do you suppose he is?" Lady Meridwyn asked quietly.

"I do not know. But this is certainly puzzling. I shall have to do this without him!" He spat.

"Is that… the Sheriff running out toward the scaffold down there?" The Bishop of Hereford asked incredulous while he pointed at the scene below.

The people gathered on the balcony suddenly let out a moan and rushed past Guy closer toward the parapet to get a better look at the drama unfolding in the courtyard. Guy looked down. His jaw flew agape. Down below in the courtyard, his cousin was rushing up the wooden stairs of the scaffold. The prisoners already stood waiting for their judgement.

"Halt! Abort the hangings!" The Sheriff called out with his hand up in the air.

"What is he doing?" Baron Amos asked, astonished at what he was seeing.

"I do not know!" Gisborne exclaimed, equally stunned by his cousin's behaviour.

"My lord?" The town crier said as he regarded him curiously.

The Sheriff ignored him and stood in the center of the platform and looked down into the crowd. He raised his arms as the crowd was breaking out in a great tumult over the sight of him there.

"People! Friends! Nobleman and their ladies! Honoured guests! This execution has been stayed." He began.

The crowd let out cries of disbelief.

"Silence!" The Sheriff bellowed.

The crowd responded. Their cries simmered down to whispers and murmurs of shock.

"Some facts have come to light which have caused me to pardon the prisoners – Robert and Isabelle Whitfield. They have been granted special dispensation. There shall be no execution today. Go home." He directed them by waving them away. The crowd began to slowly disperse.

Guy shook his head, incredulous.

"He cannot be serious?" Bishop Hereford exclaimed. "He must have taken ill? He is clearly unwell, my lord!"

"You can say that again!" Guy spat. "I'm going down there to speak to him. I'm sure I know where to find him." He assured him before he made a fast exit.

"Release these prisoners at once!" The Sheriff ordered the guards.

Robert and Isabelle looked at one another completely astonished, then down to the Sheriff.

The guards began to untie them and then assisted them down from the wooden stools they stood upon. The hoods and nooses were just about to be placed when the Sheriff interrupted the proceedings.

"Bring them to the Council Quarters." The Sheriff directed his guards. He looked to Robert. "We need to have a little chat before you go." The Sheriff winked.

"No doubt." Robert snorted.

The Sheriff saw Luke with Drake and Adam as he made his way back into the castle. He nodded a quick greeting to them. Luke suddenly remembered something about the prisoner and he wasn't sure if the Sheriff knew. His master never mentioned it. Now the prisoner was freed. Perhaps the Sheriff might want to know? Luke went after him.

"My lord, if I may. I need to tell you something." Luke implored him as he caught up to him.

"Can't it wait, Luke? I need to speak to Whitfield!" The Sheriff said impatiently.

"No, sir." Luke replied firmly.

The Sheriff stopped in his tracks and looked at Luke with his eyebrow raised demanding an explanation.

"He is free now, is he not, my lord? There is something about him that I am sure will interest you. I don't think you're aware of it." Luke began.

"Yes, whatever! What is it, Luke?" The Sheriff demanded impatiently.

"That man – your former prisoner, is a blacksmith." Luke announced as he gave his master a knowing look.

The Sheriff's eyes widened as a smile slowly spread across his face.

"Brilliant! How fortunate for me!" The Sheriff grinned. "Thank you, Luke!" He said as he patted his knight on the back before continuing on his way.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhiannon walked into the bath chamber. She poured Mortianna's liquid lavender soap into the tub and began to fill it with the water she had boiled to heat it, and a bucket of cold water to stabilize the temperature. She had done her crying, enough to last a year. She was not one to cry but she was so overcome by all of the earth shattering events in the recent days she finally relented. Her eyes were slightly puffy and now her head ached. It was well past the time her brother was scheduled to hang. Robert was dead… again. The Sheriff still believed Robert and Rhiannon were lovers. The secret died with Robert. And now, she was carrying the Sheriff's child. She couldn't tell her brother, even though it killed her not to, and she couldn't tell the Sheriff. He just killed her brother! How could she ever possibly forgive him? She removed her burgundy velvet dressing gown and laid it on the chair beside the tub. Then she stepped into it and slid into the water, allowing the heat to soothe her tired muscles.

_All of the most important men in my life are dead to me. I am cursed!_ She sighed and closed her eyes. She wished this were only a nightmare. She would give anything to wake up out of it. She prayed for sleep to come in an effort to make her wish come true.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff sat at the head of the large oak table in the Council Quarters as he waited for his former prisoners to arrive. They had things they needed to discuss – he and Robert. But he needed to keep this meeting as brief as possible. He had much more important business to take care of after this. He smiled as he thought of the meeting he would soon have with Lady Rhiannon. Would she accept what he had to say? She had to! _She must agree to marry me!_ And then a thought came to him. He had to take care of something up in his rooms before he ran out to the stables to mount his horse. He hoped he wouldn't forget. He wanted to be prepared before he saw her.

The doors flew open and the guards led Robert and Isabelle Wordsworth into the Council Quarters. The Sheriff stood and smiled.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lady Isabelle demanded. "What game are you trying to play?"

"Why don't you let me ask your husband that question, first?" The Sheriff replied with his left eyebrow quirked.

Isabelle clamped up and looked downcast.

The Sheriff moved toward Robert and stood a few feet away from him. "Why didn't you tell me you are my lady's brother? My God – you let me torture you!" The Sheriff exclaimed.

"I think you know why." Robert said.

"Yes. Well, we still need to discuss your involvement with Locksley, have no doubt about that. But your perception of me was very wrong." The Sheriff said. "If I knew you were Rhiannon's brother, you would never have been kept prisoner."

Robert looked at him incredulous.

Isabelle appeared as if she would faint.

The Sheriff went to her. "Lady Isabelle, I need to speak to your husband further. You understand?" He said.

Isabelle nodded, speechless.

The Sheriff looked to the guard who stood at her side. "Take Lady Isabelle to the dining hall and see that Jean Louis prepares something for her. She's about to fall over for God's sake!"

Lady Isabelle was too stunned to verbalize a response. She wasn't sure if she should thank him anyway. She was convinced she would be poisoned. She smiled ruefully at Robert as the guard led her out of the room.

"I'm glad we're alone." Robert began for them. The Sheriff turned around to face him. "There are a few things I need to say to you that I wouldn't want a lady to hear." Robert snarled.

"Yes. I'm sure I know what you're referring to." The Sheriff rolled his eyes. "My, the Wordsworths are a difficult lot, aren't they?" The Sheriff sighed.

"How dare you! You dallying womanizer! You claim to care for my sister. She knows nothing of your child that you charged me with kidnapping!" Robert roared.

The Sheriff put his hands together and began to pace. "You have been out of your sister's life for – hmm… how many years now?" He spun around to face him. "Six is it?" The Sheriff snapped. "A lot has happened. You know _**nothing**_ of what my lady has endured, have no doubt about that, Wordsworth. Know this: that child you cared for all summer long is indeed your nephew! Your blood runs through my son's veins!" The Sheriff exclaimed. He never took his eyes from Robert's.

"You're jesting! How could she not know about the child? She knows nothing of the boy!" Robert exclaimed, incredulous.

"It is a long story. We have much to discuss." The Sheriff said. "Let's just go over the brief points of what we need to talk about, shall we? I need to see your sister and convince her to marry me – _**if **_that is alright with you, that is?" The Sheriff added with a knowing smirk.

"Hmm… we shall see about that." Robert said as he folded his arms in front of him. "I'm listening. Begin then." He grinned.

And so, over the next ten minutes the Sheriff quickly explained Rhiannon's period of captivity by the Fallen Knight, the state she was in when he found her, and her loss of memory over the child's birth as a result. Robert then went over the important points of the time he was affiliated with Robin of Locksley, and why he faked his death. And then Guy of Gisborne stormed through the door, breathless. He looked at the Sheriff and then at Robert rather stunned.

"Guy." The Sheriff smiled. "Come. I would like you to meet my future brother in law." Then he looked to Robert. "This is my cousin and Lieutenant, Sir Guy of Gisborne."

Guy gave him a look as if he had completely taken leave of his senses.

"I am not jesting, Guy. This is Robert Wordsworth. He is Lady Rhiannon's brother." The Sheriff announced as he gestured toward Robert.

Guy just stood there shaking his head and mouthed the word: "What?"

"It is true." Robert added.

"Now, Wordsworth, I need to mention one more thing before I go." The Sheriff said to Robert.

"What is that?" Robert asked.

"I am told you are a blacksmith. Am I correct?" The Sheriff asked.

"Aye."

"I am in need of one. Would you like to work for me?" The Sheriff proposed.

Gisborne stood frozen in place with his jaw slightly agape, completely astonished by the turn of events.

"You're jesting!" Robert chortled.

"No. Indeed, I am not. Why don't you consider it while you visit with your nephew at my cousin's manor? I will have my knight, Luke escort you and Lady Wordsworth there." The Sheriff suggested.

"You're serious." Robert said.

"Indeed, I am."

"What have you named the boy?" Robert suddenly asked.

"What did you call him?" The Sheriff said.

"We never thought of a name for him, isn't that funny?" Robert mused, scratching his head.

"I have a few ideas for him, but I need to speak to Rhiannon." The Sheriff said. He looked to Gisborne.

"Cousin, have a guard bring Lady Isabelle from the dining hall. Then have Luke escort them to your manor." He directed.

Guy nodded.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I need to bring my bride home." The Sheriff grinned as he took his leave.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff had been standing a few impatient moments at her door. Nobody was coming to answer it. That was odd? He saw the Duke and Mordrid stationed at their post, some forty yards away keeping watch. The Duke reported that Lady Rhiannon hadn't left her manor today. Something was wrong. He opened the door.

"Rhiannon?" He called. "Lady Rebeccah?"

He walked through every room on the main level looking for her. The only thing of life he saw was the fire burning in the fireplace in the sitting room.

She was very ill the last time he saw her! Oh…no! He quickly advanced up the stairs. He looked in her chamber. She wasn't there. Then he saw a light from under the door to her bath chamber. He slowly walked to the door and pushed it open gently, afraid of what he would find.

Lady Rhiannon appeared to be sleeping. She was in the tub with her head leaned back over the edge of it. Her hair was soaked. He guessed she had recently submerged under the water.

"My Lady Rhiannon." The Sheriff whispered as he slowly walked toward her.

Rhiannon opened her eyes and shrieked. "What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded, incredulous to see him standing in her bath chamber. She reached for her dressing gown on the chair beside her.

"Your brother is free. He did not hang today." The Sheriff said simply.

Rhiannon stared at him and let out a gasp. She could not begin to speak. She felt the tears form in her eyes but she was unable to stop them. She was so frozen she couldn't even will herself to bite her lip!

"My lady?" The Sheriff said.

"Am I… dreaming?" Lady Rhiannon finally blurted.

The Sheriff chuckled. "No, my lady. This is _**very**_ real." He grinned as he went toward her.

She stood and quickly put on her dressing gown and stepped out of the tub.

"George?…" Rhiannon whispered.

"I know. I know all about it." The Sheriff began. "His involvement with Locksley. Faking his death and making you believe it these last two years. I know he asked you not to tell me. I know you were trying to protect – "

"George!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

The Sheriff looked at her curiously.

"Shut up and kiss me!" Lady Rhiannon cried.

He grinned seductively as he grabbed her and pulled her to him roughly. His mouth came down on hers hard as he kissed her hungrily, devouring her taste and diving his tongue into her mouth. His kiss left her breathless. When they stopped she put her hands up to his face and leaned her forehead against his.

"God, I have missed you, my sweet prince." She breathed.

"My angel, before we continue there's something I need to do." He said. He pulled away from her and bent down on one knee before her. He extracted something from his pocket and reached for her left hand.

"My Lady Rhiannon. Lady of my heart. I love you endlessly. I wish to spend my life with you. Will you be my wife?" The Sheriff asked as he looked up and gazed into her eyes. He showed her his mother's ruby and diamond ring. Her betrothal ring she had given back to him.

Lady Rhiannon grinned. "You _**know**_ I will." She winked.

The Sheriff smiled as he put the ring on her finger and stood. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him while he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

"My Lady Nottingham." The Sheriff breathed into her ear. "I have so missed your touch!" He spoke in a raw whisper.

She pulled him down toward her and began to unbutton his doublet frantically, then tore off his tunic. He had her dressing gown removed in moments while she unlaced the strings of his codpiece, then deftly unlaced his breeches and removed them. He looked down at her perfect naked body, receptive for his touch. He was so hard for her.

"I want you inside of my head. In my heart and soul. I want you inside of me. I want you to possess me. But first, there's something I need to do." Rhiannon winked.

She pushed him onto his back and leaned over him, kissing him. Then she slowly made her way down, grinning appreciatively when she saw just how much he desired her.

The Sheriff gasped as she finally found the part of him he needed her to taste. She took him in her hand expertly stroking him. She brought her mouth to him and began to lick and taste him, flicking him in quick strokes with her tongue before she completely enveloped him in her mouth. Her damp hair grazed his skin and gave him goose flesh everywhere it touched. He moaned as she began to please him.

"My angel…" He breathed.

She started off slowly then began to pick up the pace, augmenting the touch of her tongue with her hand. He thought he would die. He would explode if he didn't take her now!

She stopped and looked up at him. Then she climbed on top of him and slowly lowered herself to him, burning into his eyes with hers. He was breathing hard as he gazed into her green eyes. He licked his lips and swallowed at the thought of the touch of her silky flesh on his manhood. She leaned down and grazed his lips with her perfect, hard pink nipple. He grabbed it with his mouth and began to suck on it as she came down upon him. He let out a moan of pleasure as she moved on top of him. She was so wet. She was ready for him. The Sheriff felt himself grow harder inside of her.

"My angel." He breathed. He was so content.

"Take me." She demanded. "I need you… George." She whispered.

He pushed her back onto her back and thrust into her. She brought both of her legs up, entwining them around him, using them to pull him toward her and deeper into her. She arched her back and pressed her breasts against him, moaning satisfied murmurs into his ear, breathlessly kissing him and tasting his tongue as he pleased her.

She felt so good to him. She was right where she belonged in this moment. Open to him and taking him inside of her. He held her to him tightly as he moved within her, desperate to take her to utopia with him.

They pleased each other over and over again, releasing all of their pent up desire, and total bliss at being joined together again. It was after dusk when they collapsed side by side, breathless and clinging to each other.

"My lady…" The Sheriff whispered. "You're coming home with me." He announced.

"Maybe we should wait until after the wedding?" Lady Rhiannon suggested.

"Forget it!" The Sheriff snapped. "I don't want you away from me another second!" He said in a raw whisper as he began to kiss her again.

"That's good." She said as she broke the kiss moments later. "But I'm not sure I agree with you. Anyway, there is something I need to tell you." Lady Rhiannon began. She sat up and looked down at him.

"That's funny. There's something I need to tell you too, my angel." The Sheriff said as he sat up beside her. Now was as good a time as any to tell her she was a mother.

"You first." She said.

"No. Please continue, my lady." The Sheriff smiled.

"Well, uhm… please don't be angry with me. But Thomas and I lied to you on Sunday about why I was ill." Rhiannon began.

His eyebrow shot north.

"That cursed medicus! He is proving completely useless to me!" The Sheriff spat.

"I asked him to lie to you, George. I never expected this." She said, gesturing at the two of them, indicating them being together again.

"What is it, Rhiannon? What is really going on with you then?" The Sheriff asked.

"I am… we are… going to have a child." Lady Rhiannon stammered.

The Sheriff widened his eyes, completely astounded. He was going to tell her of their son! What to do now? He was going to have _**two**_ children! He wasn't sure but he suddenly felt like… he might pass out? He closed his eyes and gasped.

"George!" Rhiannon shrieked. She looked over at him. He had gone completely white!

"My lady." He mumbled. "You are… with child?" The Sheriff asked. _Of course! On Sunday she looked just like Lady Gisborne did the day his cousin found out she was expecting their child! How did I not make the connection?_

"Yes, my lord." Rhiannon replied, puzzled. "I thought you would be pleased. You speak of children all of the time for heaven's sake!" She pointed out.

"I _**am**_ pleased, my angel." The Sheriff smiled as he held her to him and kissed her forehead. He pulled her back down to the bed. "I am very content right now." Truthfully he felt a little sick. "You have no idea. Why, I'm so overwhelmed I … I don't quite know what to say!" The Sheriff replied smoothly.

"Are you certain?" Rhiannon asked as she kissed his chest.

"Of course I am." He said. "But… shouldn't you have told me before we –"

"It is alright, my love. The child will be fine." She smiled. She pulled away and looked up, gazing into his eyes. "So, my love. You were going to tell me something too. What was it?" She asked.

"Hmm… isn't that funny? I do not remember it!" The Sheriff lied. "Clearly… it couldn't have been very important." He added dryly.

She smiled and began to kiss him again. "My love, I thought I'd never hold you again. And I thought I'd never see my brother again. And here you are, lying naked next to me – right where you belong, my sweet prince." She winked. "And you tell me my brother is alive. Are you sure I'm not dreaming?" She asked.

"Yes, my beautiful lady." The Sheriff chuckled. "This better not be a dream! If it is, I don't want to wake up." He smirked. "Right now I never want to let you out of my sight. I will smother you with my affections." He grinned seductively.

"Oh, my prince." She sighed as she raked her fingertips through his silky raven waves. "How I love you so." She smiled.

He took her hand and kissed it, then tasted her fingertips. "My lady, you couldn't possibly love me the way I love you." He breathed.

"Wanna bet?" She winked.

"Come home with me, my love." The Sheriff said. "There are people there who love you besides me who want to see you." He smiled.

"I want to…" She said softly.

"Then it will be done." The Sheriff said.

"Don't you think it's better if I remain here until we are wed?" She asked.

"No. Especially not now. Not when there are two of you for me to worry about." The Sheriff said. Very soon he would wish he never mentioned the other baby coming.

"Are you sure you're pleased about the baby, George?" Rhiannon asked.

The Sheriff raised himself up and leaned on his elbow as he looked down upon her.

"My Lady Rhiannon, you have made me a very happy man. I was happy enough that you agreed to be my bride. And now – this!" He swallowed. "Of course I am pleased. And you shall be a perfect mother." He smiled as he caressed her cheek.

"Will I be?" She asked.

"You know you will." He grinned.

"George?"

"Yes, my love."

"I am… nervous about this. What if I don't give you a son?" Lady Rhiannon said.

"It does not matter, Rhiannon. As long as you and the child are healthy that is all I care about!" The Sheriff exclaimed.

Did he really appear that shallow? He never even thought he'd be a father, never mind care about the sex of his future hypothetical child! Who cares anyway? She already gave him a son! The one he wondered when he would ever be able to finally tell her of! Perhaps Lady Margaret was right. Perhaps his son would be ten years old before he knew his own name or met his own mother! _What am I stalling for?_ He opened his mouth to try to tell her and was interrupted… as usual. He tried not to chuckle.

"What if… I go into labour at some unfavourable function? A formal affair!"

"What?" The Sheriff asked, incredulous.

"What if something goes wrong?" Lady Rhiannon added. "What if… you and I are away somewhere and nobody can get to us? And there will only be _**you**_ there to deliver the child?" Rhiannon exclaimed in horror.

"Rhiannon!" The Sheriff said sharply. It was about here where he regretted mentioning the child that was coming.

"Oh my God. I will die right then and there… of utter shame!" Rhiannon said as she sat up nearly bumping his head. "Oh, the horror of it! I cannot have you see me that way! I swear I shall die!" She exclaimed.

"Rhiannon!" The Sheriff shouted as he sat up. She was beside herself! Getting herself worked into a tizzy over nothing! Or was she? "My love, hush! You're getting way ahead of yourself! How far along are you anyway?" The Sheriff asked.

"Thomas thinks close to two months." Rhiannon said.

"You see! You still have plenty of time. It will be alright, my angel. I will not be taking you out in the woods somewhere at the risk you'll be in a situation like that!" The Sheriff said. _Bloody right I won't be! I cannot be the one to do it!_

"What if… it changes everything?" Lady Rhiannon asked.

"Oh, my lady." The Sheriff breathed as he held her face in his hands. "Everything _**is**_ changed. We will have a whole new life together. We shall have children – "

"Wait a minute! As far as I know, there is only one of our children growing inside of me." Lady Rhiannon pointed out.

"Whatever." The Sheriff sighed. "The point is it is _**our**_ child. A part of our lives. We will share a life together – now and always." He smiled.

"I knew you would make me feel better." Rhiannon sighed contentedly as she embraced him.

_That's good. Because I feel worse. I shall be afraid to take her anywhere in the months ahead now! _The Sheriff shook his head. He never once considered that he would have to deliver a child. He wished to Zeus that his lady hadn't just planted the visual in his mind.


	9. Chapter 64

On Thursday morning the Sheriff and his lady were in her linen lined bathtub in the bath chamber in Lady Rhiannon's manor. The Sheriff was resting there with his head leaned back over the edge of the tub, his arms were enfolding his lady. She was on top of him, leaned back against his chest.

"We need to come up with a date for our wedding, Rhiannon." The Sheriff said as he began to lightly go over her shoulders with a large, soft as butter sea sponge. "Just give me a general idea since we do not have a calendar to consult at the moment." He added as he kissed her neck.

"Yes, my lord." Rhiannon murmured.

"We should do it soon, before Samhain. I swear to Zeus the people of this village take complete leave of their senses each year at that time!" He commented sarcastically.

"November. The month of your birth." Rhiannon said as she turned her head and looked up at him. "Every year we shall have two things to celebrate in that month – the anniversary of our wedding, and your birth." She smiled.

The Sheriff smiled. "A lovely thought, my dear, but you know how I hate my birthday? It would be better if we got married in a month I do not loathe so much." He sighed.

"November." Rhiannon said firmly.

He sighed. "As you wish."

"Good. Then I can use poppies in the floral arrangements that shall decorate the grand hall! It shall be beautiful with white roses, gardenias – "

"Poppies?" The Sheriff asked abruptly, rather bewildered. It seemed like a strange choice of flower to be seen at a wedding feast?

"Yes. I am rather drawn to them. They shall add rich colour to the grand hall, my love." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"If it's colour you're after, my dear, why not red roses? Or carnations?" The Sheriff suggested. _Poppies? Is she jesting?_

Lady Rhiannon shook her head vehemently. "Red roses are far too usual. That is why I've always been drawn to white ones. And carnations?" She crinkled her nose in disgust. "I loathe them! They are the most unattractive flower ever created! I couldn't stand them near me, let alone at my wedding!" She cried. She looked up at him. "Trust me, my prince." A beat. "Poppies." She said firmly as she cast that seductive glance where she lowered her eyelids and gazed up at him through the corner of her eye.

He sighed. "I shall need to see the guest list then." The Sheriff remarked dryly. "I know a few too many people you may not be aware of who would want to steal the blooms to cultivate opium from them!" The Sheriff said shaking his head.

"You had better send for the man in Nettlestone who has the greenhouse, my lord. I should like to consult with him about my vision for the flowers." Rhiannon said firmly.

"Yes. I'm sure you do." The Sheriff said. Wait until Galfrey hears about this. He doubted the man had poppies available in his greenhouse. He sighed. "When will your staff be returning, my angel." The Sheriff asked. He slid his hands over her breasts just below the surface of the water. The oil from Mortianna's special lavender soap was covering Rhiannon's skin in a slick greasy coating, making it feel even more smooth than it already was. He drew in a sigh and hissed through his teeth as he felt his manhood harden for her.

"Probably around midday. I should like to speak with them before I return to the castle. I wish to bring my horse with me anyway, so you should leave before me, before my staff return." She suggested.

"Alright, my angel. But we still have some time." He grinned deviously. "Do you feel that beneath you?" The Sheriff demanded in a raw whisper.

"Mmm. Indeed, I do, my prince." She purred as she began to grind her hips into him, while she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She brought her arms up behind her and placed them around his neck as she moved on top of him.

"Oh, my angel…" The Sheriff breathed.

Rhiannon reached down beneath her and took a hold of him. She began to stroke him slowly. He ran his hands down over her body, down until he was between her thighs. He found her soft flesh and inserted his fingers into her, hooking them as he moved them inside of her and pleasing her with his expert touch.

"George…" She breathed.

"Rhiannon." He whispered.

They continued like that for awhile as he kissed her neck, his soft whiskers tickling her skin. Then he turned her face toward his and began to kiss her slowly, sensually while he continued to please her. She was moving her fingers over his manhood in a frenzied rhythm. He was aching to take her.

She moved suddenly and repositioned herself until she was straddling him. She reached down and took a hold of him to guide him as she gazed into his eyes while she brought herself down toward him.

"My Lady Rhiannon." The Sheriff whispered. He pulled her down to him and kissed her, parting her luscious lips and infusing her mouth with his tongue as she moved on top of him, and he injected his very soul into her.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An hour later the Sheriff was back at the castle. He saw his Lieutenant just outside of the Council Quarters as he was passing by.

"Well?" Guy said after he greeted him. "What happened? Nobody's seen you since yesterday, so I take it –"

"The wedding is back on." The Sheriff grinned.

"Oh, cousin, that is splendid!" Guy exclaimed. He cleared his throat. "Good! So, does this mean I could take my wife to my manor on Fri –"

"No." The Sheriff frowned.

"But, surely you'll be moving your child to the castle now? Surely you told her?" Guy exclaimed, astonished – and rather irritated his nephew was staking his territory at his manor for so bloody long!

"My lady knows nothing yet of our child." The Sheriff remarked impatiently.

"What? You _**still**_ did not tell her?" Guy asked.

"I was just about to. But then… a funny thing happened. I was rather taken aback by what she had to say to me." The Sheriff said with a blank stare.

"What was that, cousin?" Guy pressed him.

"And I couldn't tell her. I couldn't will myself to tell her! Curses!" The Sheriff spat.

"I don't understand, cousin? I thought you said the wedding was back on? If that is so, why couldn't you tell her?" Guy asked, bewildered thus far.

"It seems you are not the only one with a child on the way, cousin." The Sheriff said with his eyebrow quirked knowingly as he stared at Guy, unblinking.

Guy stared at him a moment. Then as it slowly dawned on him, his jaw fell agape. He swallowed, then finally found the words.

"Another one?" Guy asked, incredulous.

"Yes." The Sheriff remarked absently. Then his head shot up as he looked at Guy. "What? What do you mean – _**another one**_? You make it sound like it's the plague that's coming, not my child!" The Sheriff huffed. Though he realized it wasn't that long ago he might have thought the same thing about children. Of course – those children were not his. He sighed.

"Forgive me, George. I'm just rather – "

"Stunned? Yes, I know exactly what you mean. Now do you see why I couldn't find the words to tell her she already has a child? Curses!" The Sheriff spat.

"You will know when the time is right." Guy said.

"The timing may never be right!" The Sheriff huffed. "Lady Margaret was right. I must tell her soon. Before my son is old enough to question me about why the hell he has never met his own mother!"

"I'm surprised your lady is not with you, sire?" Guy remarked, attempting to divert the topic.

"She is coming. She needed to speak to Lady Rebeccah and the rest of her staff. She insists on bringing her horse as well. She should be here in an hour or so." The Sheriff explained. Suddenly he had an idea come to him. He smiled. "Why don't you and your lady dine with us, cousin? We have much to celebrate! I'm marrying my angel after all, and we have our forthcoming children to celebrate." The Sheriff smiled. He cleared his throat. "I promise you it won't be as strange as our last dining experience together." He said with his eyebrow quirked.

"That will be pleasant, cousin. I know Meridwyn will be very pleased. She has been missing the company of your lady. She hasn't been herself since Lady Rhiannon left the castle almost a fortnight ago!" Guy remarked.

The Sheriff frowned. Had it been that long? No wonder he couldn't take his hands off of her since yesterday!

"Where is Wordsworth?" The Sheriff asked suddenly.

"Robert and his lady Isabelle are staying at the inn in the village." Gisborne replied. "I arranged it for him." He added.

"Did he say whether he has accepted my offer?" The Sheriff asked.

"No. I'm sure he's waiting to tell you his decision."

"I need to see him. I think I will invite he and his lady to dine with us. He will be your family too, cousin, since you are like my brother. We are celebrating tonight. It shall be a perfect welcoming feast for my lady!" The Sheriff exclaimed as a grin spread across his face.

"Indeed." Guy agreed. "If only your son would be there with his family."

"He will, cousin. And I shall make sure it is soon." The Sheriff said as he turned to take leave. He looked back once more as a thought came to him. "Oh, by the way – this shall be a surprise for Rhiannon, so maybe you shouldn't mention to Meridwyn that Robert and Isabelle will be joining us this night." The Sheriff suggested.

"Duly noted." Guy grinned. "I have not shared what I know about him to my bride, but aye, you have my word."

"I shall see you and your bride at dusk in the dining hall then." The Sheriff said. Then he took his leave.

He saw the Scribe next when he was nearing the door that exited the castle.

"My lord." The Scribe nodded to his master.

The Sheriff stopped. "I need you to do two things for me." The Sheriff said.

"Yes, my lord?" The Scribe asked.

"Get word to my chef Jean Louis that he must prepare something special tonight. He will be cooking for six people." The Sheriff instructed.

"Alright."

"And tell the page to let the heralds know to proclaim the news once more that my wedding shall be taking place next month." The Sheriff ordered him.

"My lord?" The Scribe remarked, rather bewildered.

"Lady Rhiannon Wordsworth is my intended bride – in case you've forgotten! And tell the little runt not to fail me!" The Sheriff huffed.

"Indeed, my lord." The Scribe nodded and went on his way.

"Wait!" The Sheriff called after him.

"Yes, my lord?" The Scribe asked.

"Make that three things. Have the page send a messenger to Nettlestone. Write the message for me to Galfrey, the man in Nettlestone who owns the greenhouse. Tell him I need him to come on the morrow to meet with me. Tell him it's regarding my wedding. Give the scroll to the page and once again – tell the cursed little runt _**not**_ to fail me!" The Sheriff said empatically.

"As you wish, my lord. It shall be done." The Scribe nodded then turned once more to take leave.

The Sheriff had another thought. "Wait!" The Sheriff called once more.

"Yes, my lord?" The Scribe asked, trying to conceal his annoyance.

"No! Give the scroll to Luke. Have Luke get the message to Galfrey. Luke will not fail me. God knows that runt would never remember more than one task!" The Sheriff spat.

"As you wish, my lord. The page I will have speak to the heralds, and I shall send Luke with the scroll to Nettlestone."

"The scroll you shall pen after you find the page and speak to Jean Louis!" The Sheriff added as a reminder to the Scribe of the importance of the scroll. Zeus knows how much time Galfrey would need to obtain poppies!

"Indeed, sire." The Scribe said and then he took his leave to carry out the tasks.

An hour later the Sheriff stood at the doorstep of the inn that was located just outside of the city walls in Nottingham village. He used the large iron ring on the door and banged it against it. A stout man of average height, and balding silver hair answered the knock.

"Yes?" The innkeeper spoke absently, his eyes downcast. "We are full here. I have no rooms –" He looked up and gasped. "My Lord Sheriff." The innkeeper swallowed. "If ye are here to collect taxes I have already given them to Gregor to give to you, my lord." The innkeeper said in trepidation.

"Save it, Erasmus! That is not why I am here." The Sheriff said.

The innkeeper breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled. "How may I be of assistance, my lord?" Erasmus the innkeeper asked.

"I wish to see someone who is staying here. Robert Wordsworth. Which room is he in?" The Sheriff asked.

"He's just down there." The innkeeper said as he pointed right. "Near the end. The door with the dragon painted on it."

"Interesting." The Sheriff remarked.

"Yes, isn't it?" Erasmus smiled. "Michael, the local artist painted the scenes on all of the doors. He's really quite good."

"Yes. I know he is." The Sheriff smiled.

Moments later he stood in front of an oak door that had a large purple dragon painted on it. The dragon was painted over top of a night sky in the background, it had wings and there was a stream of fire emitting from its sinister nostrils. The Sheriff was impressed. He banged his fist against the door.

In moments it opened. Robert stood before him.

"Back so soon?" Robert teased. "I thought I might see you after you went to see my sister, but – when was that now? Was it…yesterday?" He taunted.

"Aye. It was. And you should mind your tongue – since we shall be brothers in law." The Sheriff smirked.

"Well, congratulations!" Robert said. "So, this is going to be a grand affair! Will you be bringing the boy home then?" Robert asked as he beckoned for him to come inside.

The Sheriff followed him past the threshold. He saw Isabelle coming into the room holding a cup in her hand. There was steam visible above the rim – he guessed it was tea.

"Uh… no. Not yet." The Sheriff replied absently.

"I don't understand?" Robert said. "How long are you planning to keep my nephew holed up in Nettlestone?" Robert asked.

"Well, something cropped up and I… couldn't quite bring myself to tell her." The Sheriff said, his eyes downcast.

"She needs to know, my lord. The lad is five months old." Robert pointed out.

"Indeed, you are right. But I just couldn't."

"Can you tell me why?" Robert asked.

"I suppose. Though I'm sure my lady would want to tell you herself." The Sheriff hinted.

"Tell me what?" Robert asked with his arms folded.

"She is with child. You shall be an uncle… again." The Sheriff announced.

"Oh." Robert said. "Well, it's good news, my lord, I am glad for you. But I can see how this must have surprised you." He agreed.

"Indeed." The Sheriff said, his eyes downcast.

"Tea, my lord?" Isabelle asked as she held a cup out to him.

"No, thank you milady. But I did come here for two reasons. The first is that my lady is coming back today. I wish to invite you both to dine with us this evening. My cousin and his wife shall be joining us as well." The Sheriff said.

"We would be pleased." Robert smiled.

"And, I wondered if you gave any thought to my offer?" The Sheriff asked.

"Indeed, you were serious." Robert said.

"Aye. Did Gisborne not tell you about poor Stephanus – my blind blacksmith?"

"He did mention something about your blacksmith needing to be replaced, but he didn't say he was blind. Or…were you jesting just now?" Robert asked.

"No. Trust me – it is no joke. My blacksmith is going blind. I wish to keep him employed in the armoury – perhaps he can help in some way? I don't know why but I've grown a bit fond of him." The Sheriff mused. He cleared his throat when he noticed the looks of astonishment pass over both of their faces. "Anyway, the point is – I _**do**_ require a blacksmith. And shouldn't you wish to remain in Nottingham since your nephew will be here?"

"I suppose…" Robert said thoughtfully.

"Besides the fact I need your skills, there is something else you can do for me too." The Sheriff hinted.

"What is that?" Robert asked, his curiousity piqued.

"I shall need someone to educate my son, and the other little one coming, on… religion." He forced himself to choke out the loathed word.

"My lord?"

"I know nothing of Christianity. It's true I attend mass – a little more often than I would like." The Sheriff sighed. "I do so for political reasons. I don't pay attention though. Invariably while I'm there I am occupying my mind with thoughts about the tasks I need to do." The Sheriff admitted. "There is nobody else to do this. My son has one other uncle. Technically my Lieutenant is not his uncle, but my cousin _**is**_ my brother. The trouble is that Guy and myself both believe the same thing about religion – that the holy trinity is a load of rubbish!" The Sheriff spat.

Robert stood speechless for a moment, observing him.

"I'm sure my lady would agree, you are the only choice to be our son's godfather." The Sheriff said.

"If it is my sister's wish too, I shall accept. But first you need to tell her about him." Robert reminded him.

"Indeed. And what of my other offer? Do you accept that as well?"

"I never imagined working for my brother in law before." Robert mused as he looked up thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Don't you think there might be a conflict of interest there?" He parried.

"Wordsworth!" The Sheriff spat in frustration.

Robert sighed. "How much will you pay me?" He asked pointedly.

"Five crowns a month." The Sheriff said.

Robert laughed. "Ten." He challenged.

"Six!" The Sheriff huffed.

"Six? Huh! I can do much better in Pocklington working for myself!" Robert exclaimed. "Eight." He said folding his arms.

"Seven crowns. That is my _**final**_ offer." The Sheriff said evenly.

"Eight." Robert grinned. "I'm really very… _**good**_." He winked.

"Seven!" The Sheriff snapped.

"I'm _**damn**_ good." Robert said, his blue green eyes narrowed knowingly."

The Sheriff drew an audible sigh as he shook his head. "You had bloody well better be! That is almost the same wage as the Officers of my Black Knights!" He snorted. "Fine. Eight crowns a month. But you had better not disappoint me." He said, irritated that he had so easily given in.

"I shall not disappoint you." Robert assured him. "Now, when do you wish for us to join you?" He asked.

"Come to the castle at dusk. I will have my sentry show you to the dining hall." The Sheriff said.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"You're awfully cheerful this day?" Adam remarked curiously to his friend as they stood watch at the main portcullis.

"Indeed." Drake grinned.

"I haven't seen you…with such a stupid grin on your face since Lady Marian used to come around!" Adam commented.

"Really?" Drake replied sarcastically.

"Aye. Spit it out, mate. What has you grinning? You haven't even complained about your helm yet?" Adam said.

"Mirabelle…" Drake said softly.

"Mirror? What mirror? Are ye quite yourself, mate?" Adam asked with his gray eyes narrowed curiously.

"I have been courting a lovely, very fair maiden." Drake announced with a grin.

"You? Well, who is she then?" Adam prodded.

"Lady Mirabelle. She is so enchanting." Drake said.

"I hope you told her whom you work for." Adam quipped.

"Indeed. She knows all about it. But it doesn't matter to her." Drake said.

"You're jesting." Adam said, astonished.

"No. She cares for me anyway." Drake grinned.

Adam clicked his tongue against his palate a few beats. "Poor, misguided maiden." Adam teased, shaking his head.

They could hear the sound of a horse's hooves approaching. They looked up. It was Lady Rhiannon.

"Milady Rhiannon. You have returned." Drake greeted her.

"Yes." Rhiannon said. She looked around "Where is Luke?" She asked them.

"He was sent to Nettlestone, milady. He should be back soon." Adam said.

Rhiannon nodded. The portcullis raised and she eased the horse to the stable and handed the reins to the stable master. As she headed to the front entrance of the castle she looked up at the magnificent architecture of the castle. _This shall be my home._ She smiled.

She saw the page soon after she entered the castle. He had just returned from the village after delivering the message to two of the heralds there. It was up to them to do the rest. He was grateful to find his master had left the castle. The page was eager to rejoin one of his friends, the son of his master's serving wench, Hildith.

"Page!" Lady Rhiannon called after him.

"Milady." The page said. "You have returned."

"Indeed. I need you to go to Madam Oberon's chambers. She is still here at this castle, I presume?" Lady Rhiannon asked. She was suddenly aware that if Madam Oberon thought the wedding was called off – as it had been, she may have returned to her manor outside of the village.

"Aye, milady. Madam Oberon is still here. She serves the Lieutenant's wife you know." He pointed out.

"Oh, right. I had forgotten." Rhiannon said. "Anyway, I should like to meet with my wardrobe mistress to discuss the details of my wedding gown. Tell her I shall visit her in one hour hence." She instructed the page.

"As you wish, milady." The page relented. So much for meeting with his mate for the chess game they had planned. His master would return soon. There would be no time for games when the Sheriff returned. He dutifully went on his way, and cursed his father once more for selling him to the Sheriff four years ago.

Rhiannon continued down the hallway well past the meeting rooms of the main level – the Council Quarters, the Sheriff's Office. She approached the stairwell that was just on the right. She picked up her skirts and was minding the stairs so she didn't see her coming. Suddenly a voice shrieking through the air startled her. She stopped and looked up.

"Oh… my…god. Am I dreaming?" Lady Meridwyn shrieked in glee as she came down the stairs toward her friend. "You're back? For good?"

"Indeed I am, my friend." Rhiannon smiled. The two embraced then continued up the stairs.

"I have so much to share with you, Meridwyn. You best sit down with a cup of Mortianna's batwing tea when I tell you all I need to share." Lady Rhiannon hinted as they headed together down the north wing to the Sheriff's private chambers.

"More than the fact that I'm hoping your coming back here means your wedding to the Sheriff shall be taking place after all?" Meridwyn asked.

"Indeed. Much more than even _**that**_." Rhiannon winked.

"So you _**are**_ marrying the Sheriff?" Meridwyn asked.

"You better believe I am." Lady Rhiannon grinned.

A short time later they were inside the chambers. Lady Rhiannon sent the sentry to Mortianna's lair to request the batwing tea for her friend. The ladies took a seat on the small couch in the den.

"Well? What is it you must tell me? I'm bursting to know!" Lady Meridwyn exclaimed.

"You shall be an aunt as well." Lady Rhiannon blurted.

"What? You are with child? Oh, that's marvelous, Rhiannon!" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"Indeed. And uhm… something else."

"Yes?" Meridwyn pressed her.

Just then Mortianna came into the den holding a cup. Lady Rhiannon smiled at her and nodded to Meridwyn.

"I'm most grateful someone enjoys my batwing tea." Mortianna remarked as she handed the cup to Lady Meridwyn.

Meridwyn took it gratefully then Mortianna returned to her apothecary. Lady Meridwyn took a sip then looked up at Rhiannon. "Well? Tell me!" She demanded.

"You know that man who was supposed to hang yesterday but didn't?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes. That was the strangest thing I ever witnessed, Rhiannon. Shame you weren't there to see it. They shall be talking about it for years to come! I've known the Sheriff for years as you know and trust me – he has never stopped an execution!" Lady Meridwyn exclaimed. "Hmm. That prisoner – I wonder whatever happened to him after –"

"He is my brother." Lady Rhiannon announced.

Lady Meridwyn narrowed her sky blue eyes as she studied her friend. "What?" She asked quietly.

"That man, the prisoner you saw in the village square yesterday – is my brother." She repeated.

Lady Meridwyn's jaw flew agape.

Lady Rhiannon nodded to Meridwyn's cup. "Take a sip, Meridwyn. Looks like you need it." She added dryly.

"Your brothers are dead are they not?" Lady Meridwyn asked, completely bewildered.

"One is. I thought Robert was too. He pretended to be dead. It's a very long story, Meridwyn. I shall tell you about it some time. I can't go into it now though, because I shall be meeting with Madam Oberon soon. You're welcome to join me, of course." She added.

"Yes. I shall. But… he is your brother?" Meridwyn asked again.

"Yes. You see? I told you I had lots of news for you!" Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"So that's what you meant about your reasons for calling off the wedding before. You mentioned someone from your past had returned, and you were distancing yourself so that his life may be spared. Were you referring to him?" Meridwyn asked.

"Yes. But that was before I thought my lover would actually see him hang." She sighed.

"Well don't think on that, my dear. Think of how he stopped it! My…he is your brother?" Meridwyn said again, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yes, can you imagine? He is not dead after all! For the second time! You see what I meant about the news? And the best news of all… I shall be marrying my sweet prince." She smiled.

"I'll say you had plenty of news!" Meridwyn agreed. "I must say, Rhiannon, when it comes to you and the Sheriff – neither of you are _**ever**_ boring." Lady Meridwyn remarked shaking her head slightly in awe.


	10. Chapter 65

Madam Oberon was busy pinning the sleeves to the bodice for a new gown for Lady Gisborne when she paused to take a sip of the tea that her daughter Marie just brought for her. She looked up in her luxurious quarters across the room. In between two torches that ensconced the wall there, a gown was hanging. The gown was actually covered but she knew which one lay beneath the heavy cotton that draped over it to protect the garment from dust. She shook her head. It was a shame the wedding between the Sheriff and Mademoiselle Rhiannon had been cancelled. They seemed so right for each other, Madam Oberon mused. L'accord parfait! She sighed and took another sip of the soothing warm liquid. Why did the tea of nobility taste so much better than any of the varieties she could obtain before? She looked up when she heard a knock at her door. She set the cup on a table beside her, lay the garment down on the chair and went to it. When she opened it she was rather startled to see Mademoiselle Rhiannon standing before her accompanied by Lady Gisborne.

"Mademoiselle Rhiannon!" Madam Oberon exclaimed. "How nice to see you, mon cher!" She glanced down to Rhiannon's hands then brought her sparkling blue eyes back up to meet Rhiannon's. "I am pleased to see you are not carrying mon Seigneur Sheriff's breeches with you, for me to alter to fit you this time, mon cher." Madam Oberon commented dryly with a knowing look.

Lady Meridwyn quirked an eyebrow and shot a questioning glance at her friend. "You wanna tell me about that, honey? Is this some perverse thing that lights his torch or something?" Lady Meridwyn smirked.

Rhiannon sighed. "I disguised myself a couple of times to visit my brother in the dungeon." She explained. She grinned when a thought came to her. "But, come to think of it, the Sheriff saw me dressed in his clothes and uh…aye, I think he rather _**liked**_ it!" She winked.

"Oh, honey you must tell me more about this. Like I said before, Rhiannon: you two are _**never**_ boring." Lady Meridwyn grinned.

"Mes chers?" Madam Oberon spoke up trying to get their attention.

"Forgive me, Madam Oberon. I'm here about my gown." Lady Rhiannon said.

"Your wedding gown, Mademoiselle?" Madam Oberon asked, rather puzzled. Wasn't the wedding cancelled?

"Oui, Madam. May I see it?"

"Come in, s'il vous plait." Madam Oberon smiled as she stepped aside and beckoned for the ladies to enter. "You _**are**_ marrying the Sheriff, mon cher?" Madam Oberon asked.

"Oui, Madam Oberon." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"Bonnes nouvelles, Mademoiselle!" Madam Oberon exclaimed excitedly clapping her hands together. "And when shall it be?"

"We have to decide on a specific date but it shall be next month. Hopefully before Martinmas." Lady Rhiannon said. She stopped herself from putting a hand to her belly. Every time she thought of the child inside of her she wanted to touch her belly. She surprised herself all of the time lately – about how easy it was to suddenly think of herself as a mother. She sighed. "May I see it now, Madam? Is it ready?" She asked.

"Oui, Mademoiselle Rhiannon." Madam Oberon smiled. "Come." She said. She stood in front of the wall where the gown was hanging. She reached up and pulled it down from the hook, and deftly peeled the heavy cotton drape from it in one fluid motion. She held it up to show them.

Lady Meridwyn swallowed and held her breath a moment.

Lady Rhiannon gasped and put her hand to her bosom as her green eyes grew wide in awe. "Oh, Madam Oberon. It is… breathtaking." She breathed.

"It is a work of art." Lady Meridwyn exclaimed. She looked to Rhiannon. "He may be in danger of falling over when he sees you in that, you know." She warned.

Lady Rhiannon stood staring at it unable to take her eyes from it as she moved in slowly toward Madam Oberon. She reached out and touched the cool silk. She ran her fingertips over the beading and the lace. She shook her head. It looked more like a dream than something that could possibly be real?

"You are pleased, mon cher?" Madam Oberon asked.

"Oh, indeed!" Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"Would you like to try it on?" Madam Oberon asked.

"I may cry." Lady Gisborne remarked.

Lady Rhiannon rolled her eyes at her friend, then looked back toward her wardrobe mistress. "Yes, I would like to see how it fits, Madam." She said as she reached out to take it from her.

She was shown to a separate room in the wardrobe mistress' quarters. Moments later she returned to them. Lady Rhiannon stood before a full length mirror gazing at her reflection from every angle as she turned her body left and right. Madam Oberon and Lady Gisborne flanked either side of her.

"Vous avez une vision, Mademoiselle!" Madam Oberon smiled. "And I am pleased with the fit. Il est parfait!"

"Pardon, Madam?" Rhiannon asked.

"Excuse – moi, mon cher. The fit. It is perfect!"

"Indeed it is!" Lady Rhiannon smiled as she turned back once more to face the mirror.

"Now you see what I mean, mon cher, about the skirt? I cut the silk on the bias. See how it drapes your figure so beautifully, Mademoiselle?" Madam Oberon commented as she pointed to the skirt.

"Yes, I do see it now, Madam. I swear you're a genius when it comes to knowing how to dress a lady." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"Oh, Rhiannon. When the Sheriff sees you in that? The rest of us will become invisible I'm sure, my dear." Meridwyn said.

"Good. That is the point." Rhiannon grinned knowingly. She turned back to Madam Oberon. "It is absolutely perfect, Madam Oberon. I am very pleased with it. My wedding is not for a few weeks yet. I do not wish for the Sheriff to find this. May I keep it here until closer to the day of my wedding?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle. Ce n'est pas un probleme." Madam Oberon said.

"Good." Lady Rhiannon sighed. "Do you really think my prince will like it?" She asked them once more as she studied her reflection in the mirror.

Lady Meridwyn opened her mouth to speak but wasn't quick enough for the seamstress.

"Ses yeux sont fixes sur vous seul." Madam Oberon smiled as she clasped her hands together, looking into the mirror at Lady Rhiannon.

"Pardon, Madam?" Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn asked in unison.

"Oui. Forgive me, mes chers." Madam Oberon began. She looked to Rhiannon. "What I said to you was: his eyes shall be fixed upon only you."

Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"Now mon cher, I have one other surprise." Madam Oberon grinned.

"A surprise? For me?" Rhiannon asked.

"Oui. I completed your gown days ago. And until I was given my latest task by Lady Gisborne, I was rather… bored. I had a very strong hunch you would return. And I thought you might like something new? No doubt mon Seigneur Sheriff will wish to plan something special for your return. And so you shall be needing a gown, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled. She went over to another gown hanging on the wall, took it and then brought it back to Lady Rhiannon. She pulled the cotton fabric from it that draped it. "Voila, Mademoiselle." She said.

"Oh, it is lovely, Madam Oberon!" Rhiannon exclaimed. "My, it was only a month ago you gave me the blue velvet one I wore to Lady Gisborne's wedding! How you _**do**_ spoil me." She said as she reached out to caress the brightly coloured fine silk.

"Il est de mon plaisir, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. I'm sure mon Seigneur Sheriff would agree – it is easy to spoil you, mon cher." Madam Oberon winked.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Two hours before dusk Lady Rhiannon returned to the private chambers. She hadn't seen the Sheriff since she returned to the castle. She spent some time looking for him after she brought her new gown back to the chamber following the meeting with Madam Oberon. She also asked around if anyone knew where her brother might be, but nobody seemed to know. Then when she was told that the Sheriff had ridden into the village, she went back to meet with her friend. She and Lady Meridwyn spent the afternoon in the gardens and had just parted company recently. She hoped the Sheriff had returned by now.

She opened the door into the den and gasped. There were candles burning everywhere. A dozen white roses stood in an ornate golden vase on the table in the den. White candles burned in golden candlesticks beside the vase. The candlelight reflected from the metal of the vase and assaulted her eyes with light. She looked around. The room was empty. She went to the doors leading into the bedchamber and opened them.

"George?" She called as she walked inside. Her gown was still on the bed. She hoped he hadn't seen it. She had forgotten she planned to hang it somewhere where he wouldn't see it.

She suddenly felt hands upon her shoulders. She jumped.

"My lady." He breathed.

She turned around and threw her arms about his neck and kissed him.

"Oh, my prince. I've been looking all over for you! What were you doing in the village?" Rhiannon pouted as she rested her head against his chest and took in the scent of his leather.

The Sheriff smiled and bent down to kiss the top of her head. "Just some business I needed to take care of, my angel. Forgive me for not being here when you arrived." He said. He tilted her chin up forcing her to meet his gaze as he burned his amber eyes into hers. "I could tear that gown off of you right now." He breathed in a raw whisper.

"My love…" She whispered.

"But… I won't." The Sheriff said. "Because you shall need to primp, and we haven't much time." The Sheriff hinted with a devilish grin.

"Haven't much time for what?" Rhiannon asked.

"We shall be dining with Guy and Lady Meridwyn in two hours hence." The Sheriff announced. He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Or…would you prefer we dined alone, my angel?" The Sheriff asked as he caressed her cheek.

"No. Well… I do wish for us to be alone together, but it will be good to dine with the Gisbornes." She smiled.

"Are you up for this, my angel? You're not too tired, are you?" The Sheriff asked, suddenly remembering her current condition. She tired very easily the night before, he noticed.

"My love, I am well. This has been my best day in a fortnight. I am not dizzy, I am hungry for once, and best of all – I am not tired." She grinned.

"Good, my lady. I shall keep that in mind for later." The Sheriff smirked.

She smiled and looked around at her surroundings. "Oh, my prince, the roses and the candles – they are beautiful! White roses – my favourite! You remembered." Rhiannon smiled.

"I cannot look at one now without thinking of you, my lady. You are like a perfect rose. One without thorns and which can thrive in the snow." The Sheriff whispered smoothly as he held her to him and kissed her neck.

She shivered as he tickled her with his whiskers. "You're going to make me want to cancel our dinner plans, my lord." Lady Rhiannon purred.

"I am so glad you are home, my angel." The Sheriff said suddenly as he embraced her tightly, surprising her a little.

"It is only home because _**you**_ are here, my prince. You are my home." Lady Rhiannon whispered.

"Another month." The Sheriff sighed. "You're going to make me wait another month." He smiled ruefully.

"Well, you won't have to wait longer than that. Patience, my love. Isn't that what you're always fond of telling me?"

"Indeed." The Sheriff said. "Now, my angel, do I need to remind you to uh… tone down your flirting with me this evening?" The Sheriff teased as he recalled the last time they dined with his cousin and Lady Meridwyn.

"No. I promise to be a good girl while we are dining. But… don't expect a good girl when we arrive back here." She hinted with her eyebrow quirked knowingly.

"Oh, really?" He asked.

"You'll just have to wait and see." Lady Rhiannon teased.

The Sheriff looked over her shoulder to the bed. "What is this? A new gown, my lady?" He asked.

"Yes." She said as she extricated herself from his embrace. She turned around and swiftly grabbed a fur throw from the foot of the bed and threw it over the gown to cover it.

"What are you doing?" The Sheriff asked, bewildered.

"You shall see it soon enough." Rhiannon said. "But I'd prefer you to first see it on me than see it beforehand." She smiled.

"Alright, my angel." The Sheriff said. "I have sent for the man I know in Nettlestone with the greenhouse. I thought you'd be pleased to hear that. I asked him to come for tomorrow." The Sheriff said.

"Thank you, my lord. I'm eager to speak with him. And what of my brother? Do you know what happened to him? I was eager to speak with him as well, but alas, no one seems to know where he is?" Lady Rhiannon asked.

"No, my angel. I do not know." He lied.

"Oh, I hope he didn't head back north?" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

"I'm sure he is somewhere in the village, my lady. I'm sure he wouldn't leave without speaking with you. I shall send the page to look for him on the morrow. Now, I have sent for the servants to bring hot water for your bath. I thought you might like that." The Sheriff said.

A sudden knock on the door punctuated his words. He opened it and two lady servants appeared carrying buckets of steaming water. He directed them toward the bath chamber.

"My lord?" Rhiannon began. "How did you know?" She asked, shaking her head.

"Just a good guess." The Sheriff smiled. "I knew when I told you about our plans for the evening you would want to enjoy a warm soak. Even though you uh… sort of had a bath this morning." The Sheriff grinned as his left eyebrow shot north.

Lady Rhiannon felt her cheeks flush. "Yes." She said weakly.

"Now, I shall leave you to your beautification process." The Sheriff teased. "I need to meet with my tax collector and Luke and then I shall return." He promised. He kissed her then went on his way.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Robert and his lady Isabelle were leaving the inn just before dusk. They didn't make it very far when they noticed two men walking toward them. One was tall and muscular with long brown hair to his shoulders, piercing gray eyes, and he sported a few days worth of beard growth. A rather handsome gentleman – at least compared to the other one, Robert noted. The man accompanying him, by contrast, was short and stout, with balding reddish blond hair. The unattractive looking man spoke.

"Pardon me, sir? I was told by the innkeeper that ye are a blacksmith. Is that right?" The man asked.

"Aye. That is correct." Robert said as he continued on his way. Lady Isabelle held his arm and kept pace alongside him.

"I wonder if ye know where I might find me some… Spanish steel to replace the blade of my sword?" The stout man asked, unfazed that the blacksmith was deliberately attempting to ignore him.

Robert stopped in his tracks and turned around to face him. "I heard a rumour of a man in Nottingham who began using that particular variety of steel for his swords three years ago. But I couldn't say who his source is, if the rumour is true of course." Robert said with an eyebrow raised suspiciously. He had a funny feeling that the man knew exactly whom Robert referred to.

"Well, I thought that since you are a blacksmith you would have a better chance of finding out than I would – how I could obtain me some… Spanish steel?"

"First of all you'd probably be better replacing the whole sword than just the blade." Robert mentioned. He shook his head. "Why would you need such strong steel anyway?" He questioned. "Are you a soldier then?"

The man chuckled. "No, but I'm _**damn**_ good with a blade. And there's been a band of rebels running amock – burning down homes and the like! My sister's home was among them. One has to be prepared in these troubled times." He said as he clasped his hands together before him.

"Mmm hmm?" Robert said with his eyebrow quirked. "And…what is in it for me then?"

"Fifty gold pieces. Would that work for you?" The man asked.

"Perhaps. I shall think on it. If I decide to do this, where shall I find you?" Robert asked.

"I'm staying right here at the inn." The man smiled. "Isn't that convenient?"

"I will see what I can do, but I cannot promise you." Robert said. He nodded to them and continued on his way with Lady Isabelle. He had a bad feeling about this man. He knew the man was referring to the Sheriff. Why was he being so secretive about it? The sword he was after had a different intent than what the man had explained. Robert was almost certain of it. He was also certain that he just became part of a strange game, but he couldn't yet put his finger on it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff returned to his chambers following his meeting with Gregor, and then Luke. He found Luke standing watch with Adam at the main portcullis. Luke assured the Sheriff that Galfrey had received the scroll and that he would come to speak with the Sheriff on the morrow. The Sheriff went into the den and paused to pour a libation of the tincture of rapture. He took a sip, set the goblet down then headed to the doors leading into the bedchamber.

"Rhiannon, are you read –" He gasped. She stood before the mirror but turned to face him when she heard the doors open.

Her gown was raw silk in a vibrant brick orange hue. It was tailored perfectly to hug her curves. It had a low scoop neckline, fitted sleeves, and a skirt that perfectly draped her figure. Decorating the bodice from the neckline to the waist were silver buttons studded in the center with a brilliant diamond. The Sheriff swallowed. Her hair was up and decorated with combs encrusted with garnets and diamonds. The colour of the gown made her green eyes even more vivid with colour. The aqua pools glistened as they met his.

"My lady." The Sheriff said as he walked toward her. "You are a vision, my angel." He smiled.

"Thank you, my love. I am pleased you approve." Rhiannon said.

"Shall we head to the dining hall?" The Sheriff asked as he held his arm out to her.

She smiled and took it. He led her out of the chamber, down the stairs and to the dining hall on the main level.

The doors opened. Guy of Gisborne stood there with his lady. Both were holding a goblet in their hand.

"Milady Rhiannon." Guy said as he came toward them. "Welcome back." He smiled.

"Thank you, Sir Guy. It is good to be back." Lady Rhiannon smiled. She looked up at her handsome betrothed. He grinned back at her as he released her to visit with his cousin and his wife.

"It's about time you came home, friend." Lady Meridwyn said. "He just about drove the lot of us mad, you know." She whispered teasingly as she nodded behind her friend to the Sheriff. The Sheriff was near the door speaking to his sentry.

Rhiannon looked to the table. It seemed the Sheriff had put quite a bit of thought into several different touches to welcome her home. The dark mahogany table was covered in whisper thin, fine silk in a deep crimson colour. There were more bouquets of roses on the table in golden vases. Positioned in the center was a golden candelabra with tapered white candles burning. Torches blazed along the walls of the dining hall, and there were iron candelabrum positioned strategically through the room burning more white candles. Garlands of white roses and greenery tumbled down along the bases of the candelabrum. The room was ablaze with fire and life. She smiled.

The Sheriff returned to them. "Forgive me." He said to them. "I needed to speak to my sentry. I have summoned for Jean Louis." He said.

"Right." Gisborne said.

"Did my lady share with you the good news?" The Sheriff asked Lady Meridwyn.

"Yes, my lord. I am very pleased for you both. Our children shall be fortunate to grow up together." Lady Gisborne said.

"Indeed." The Sheriff agreed.

"And when is this marriage taking place, cousin?" Guy asked.

Lady Rhiannon grinned.

"We shall be getting married next month." The Sheriff said.

"It shall be a grand affair indeed." Lady Meridwyn remarked.

The sentry came into the room and interrupted them just now.

"My lord?" He addressed his master.

"Yes, what is it?" The Sheriff asked.

"Your guests have arrived. Shall I show them in now?" He asked.

"Yes. That will be fine." The Sheriff nodded.

"Guests?" Lady Rhiannon asked as she folded her arms and cast a suspicious look to her betrothed. "What guests? You didn't mention anyone other than Sir Guy and Lady Meridwyn?" She challenged him with her eyebrow quirked.

"Oh. Right. Well, just one of the Barons and his lady. They just happen to be visiting Nottingham you know." The Sheriff said absently.

"Aye. Quite right, cousin." Guy quipped. "He was here for the hanging!" Guy grinned.

"Indeed, cousin." The Sheriff smiled.

Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn eyed their men curiously and then looked at each other rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. And then the doors flew open and the sentry showed Robert and Isabelle Wordsworth into the dining hall.

"Robert!" Lady Rhiannon squealed as she swiftly went toward him and embraced him tightly.

"My dear sister." He said as he kissed her forehead.

"Are you dining with us?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes, my dear. Did he not tell you then?" Robert asked.

"No, he didn't." Lady Rhiannon said as she turned around and grinned at the Sheriff. She mouthed the words: 'thank you' to him.

The Sheriff nodded to his soon to be bride.

"Come!" Lady Rhiannon said as she took Robert and Isabelle's hands. She took them over to Guy and Lady Meridwyn.

"Robert." Gisborne nodded to him. He looked to Isabelle. "Milady." He smiled.

"Oh. You have met Sir Guy then?" Rhiannon asked her brother.

"Yes, Rhiannon. Though, we haven't met the lovely maiden who accompanies him." He said.

Lady Meridwyn blushed.

"Robert and Isabelle, I'd like you to meet Lady Meridwyn Gisborne." Rhiannon said as she nodded toward Meridwyn. She looked to Meridwyn. "My dear Meridwyn, this is my brother Robert and his wife, Isabelle." She announced to her friend.

"How do you do?" Lady Meridwyn smiled at them both.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, milady." Robert nodded.

"Wordsworth, how good of you to join us!" The Sheriff said. Suddenly he realized why Robert's eyes looked so familiar when he first met him. Robert and Rhiannon stood side by side. The Sheriff studied them both. Their eyes were almost exactly the same. Indeed, the similarities were striking. He chastised himself for not putting two and two together before Mortianna enlightened him.

"Indeed." Robert replied.

"I hope you will not be rushing back to your home in Pocklington, dear brother." Rhiannon said. "We have hardly had a proper visit." She pointed out.

"Did he not tell you then?" Robert asked with his eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Tell me what?" Lady Rhiannon asked. Then she looked to her betrothed.

"Oh, shall I tell her then?" The Sheriff asked Robert.

"Tell me what?" Lady Rhiannon demanded.

"Aye." Robert said. "You tell her."

Lady Rhiannon looked once more to the Sheriff with her eyebrow quirked.

"Hmm. No. You tell her." The Sheriff grinned.

Lady Rhiannon shook her head and sighed, and folded her arms as she impatiently awaited an answer.

"Well, it turns out… I shall be working in Nottingham." Robert announced.

"What?" Lady Rhiannon asked.

"Yes." He smiled.

"You found work – just like that? You just got released yesterday and you already have employment lined up?" Rhiannon asked, incredulous. "But, how on earth –"

"Yes. Nottingham Castle to be exact." Robert smiled.

The Sheriff grinned.

Lady Rhiannon was clearly surprised. "What?" She shrieked. She looked at her betrothed.

"Now, my angel." The Sheriff began. "Surely you recall the matter of my blind blacksmith, Stephanus? Your brother has agreed to take his position in my armoury." The Sheriff said.

"Oh my, I had forgotten about that. Well, that is absolutely grand!" Rhiannon exclaimed. She looked to Robert. "I'm quite surprised you agreed to this, dear brother?"

"He can be really quite persuasive, you know." Robert winked as he nodded toward the Sheriff.

"Oh, indeed!" Lady Rhiannon agreed. She sighed and looked up at her brother, beaming and shaking her head still in disbelief. "We shall be together again, at last! Oh, Robert!" She cried as she embraced him once more.

"I shall never leave you again." Robert soothed as he smoothed her hair. He closed his eyes and smiled.

As the Sheriff observed their exchange he was glad once again that he found out the truth before it was too late. He closed his eyes and sighed.

The doors opened then and his sentry showed Jean Louis, the Sheriff's personal chef, into the room.

"Bonsoir, mon Seigneur Sheriff!" Jean Louis greeted his master cheerfully as he strode toward the group. He was dressed the same as the last time, Rhiannon noted. All in black covered with a long pristine white apron.

"Jean Louis." The Sheriff smiled. "Now, first I must inform you my wedding shall be taking place next month – just a slight change in the scheduling. You understand? I trust you can still manage the feast for me?" The Sheriff asked with his eyebrow quirked.

"Oui. Je serais heureux, mon Seigneur Sheriff." Jean Louis smiled.

"Right. I take it that's a 'yes' then?" The Sheriff asked, rolling his eyes.

"Oui. Oh… excuse – moi. Yes, my lord." He said.

"Good. Now, can you tell us about the menu for this evening?" The Sheriff asked.

The group gathered around them, curious to hear what the chef had been preparing for them.

"Droit." Jean Louis began with a nod. His brown eyes glistened like melted caramel as they lit up when he took advantage of his moment. He loved talking about his art with a captive audience. "We begin with a beautiful veal broth seasoned with the finest fresh herbs taken from your gardens, mon seigneur. Then I shall be bringing a dish of specially seasoned, individual, cute as a button venison pies! You have never tasted anything like it." Jean Louis grinned at his audience. The ladies looked at him in fascination at the way he passionately described the dishes. The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north curiously. Jean Louis went on. "It is succulent minced venison. The meat was cured then slow cooked to perfection. Ah, c'est magnifique!" He exclaimed as he brought his thumb and first two fingertips to his lips and lightly kissed them, then splaying his fingers in front of his face to emphasize his point. The Sheriff noticed each one of the ladies absently licking their lips and sighed shaking his head. "The venison is then enveloped in a delicate, melt in your mouth, light as a whisper pastry, sure to delight your palate and engage your senses – "

"Alright, Jean Louis, we get the idea. Just a basic description rather than a sonnet shall suffice." The Sheriff said rolling his eyes.

"Ah. Oui, mon Seigneur Sheriff." Jean Louis said. He cleared his throat. "Following that, I shall be bringing out roasted peacock surrounded with garden fresh vegetables. The roast was boiled first to tenderize it, then basted with jus d'orange et l'eau de rose – "

"Pardon, Jean Louis?" The Sheriff interrupted him.

"Qu'est – ce que c'est?" Jean Louis remarked absently. He cleared his throat. "Oh. Droit! Forgive me, mon seigneur. The roast was basted with orange juice and rosewater." He sighed then the tall balding man with the kind eyes looked to the rest of the group as he continued. "After the meat was basted it was dusted with sugar and a variety of spices before it was baked very slowly at a low temperature. It should melt in your mouth if my cooks paid attention to my instructions. For dessert there shall be baked pears, baked white sugar plums drizzled with raspberry syrup, sweet pastries with almonds and raisins, and of course – the usual bowls of figs, nuts, and dates." Jean Louis announced proudly.

"My, I am glad I have my appetite back." Lady Meridwyn remarked. "I would surely hate to miss _**this**_!" She said.

"It sounds divine." Lady Isabelle agreed.

Lady Rhiannon reached out beside her and grasped the Sheriff's hand, squeezing it.

He looked over at her and smiled.

"You are amazing." She whispered to him with a grin.

He leaned down close to her ear. "If I am it's because you make me that way." The Sheriff whispered.

"I shall show you what I mean… later." She grinned as she bit her lip.

The Sheriff sighed. Even without even trying she was flirting with him. He doubted she was aware of her own powers of seduction. He tugged at the collar of his black velvet doublet. Suddenly he felt a bit warm. Was it all the damned candles and torches blazing in the room? Or was it… her?

"Thank you, Jean Louis." The Sheriff said to his chef, dismissing him.

Jean Louis nodded and turned to take his leave. Suddenly he realized he was remiss in saying something. He turned back to his master. "Oh, and forgive me for being remiss in saying so but, felicitations, mon Seigneur Sheriff." Jean Louis said.

"Pardon?" The Sheriff asked.

"I think he just said: 'congratulations'." Lady Rhiannon said.

Gisborne and Wordsworth along with their ladies stopped talking and looked over at Lady Rhiannon, surprised she understood French.

"Oh, oui! I had forgotten you knew French, Mademoiselle." Jean Louis exclaimed.

"Soulement un peu, mais j'esprire pouvoir s'exprimer couramment dan le temps." Lady Rhiannon shrugged.

The Sheriff's jaw flew agape in complete astonishment.

The Gisbornes shot surprised looks at one another.

Lady Isabelle Wordsworth eyed her sister in law suspiciously with one eyebrow quirked.

Robert Wordsworth folded his arms and grinned, proud of his sister for remaining so clever.

"Very well spoken, Mademoiselle, but forgive me – your accent is terrible!" Jean Louis smirked.

"Wait a minute!" Lady Meridwyn interrupted them. "What did she just say to you?" She demanded of the chef.

"She told me she only knows a little – French that is, but she hopes to be fluent in time." He said.

"Sounds to me like you're nearly there!" Gisborne commented to Lady Rhiannon.

"I have learned a lot from my wardrobe mistress." Lady Rhiannon explained. "And some things I picked up from a forgotten French transcript I dusted off from the Sheriff's library." She added modestly.

"Indeed, my lady is a woman of many talents." The Sheriff said. He couldn't help but think of the talented ways she could please him with her tongue. He swallowed and looked away.

"I shall send the serving wenches to bring the soup." Jean Louis called from the door. "Etre assis." He directed them nodding toward the table.

"What's that, Jean Louis?" The Sheriff asked.

"Please, be seated." Jean Louis said.

They took their places around the large rectangular table. The Sheriff and Guy sat at either end of the table, with their respective ladies seated to their right. Robert sat beside Meridwyn and across from his sister. Lady Isabelle sat on Rhiannon's right.

Two serving wenches appeared. One placed steaming bowls of veal broth in front of each of them. The other poured wine into their goblets.

"A toast?" The Sheriff suggested as he raised his goblet.

They raised their goblets and looked to the Sheriff.

"As you know, we have much to celebrate. Our families are together at last. And the best news of all – my lady has agreed to be my wife." The Sheriff smiled as he reached over and took her hand. He looked into her eyes. Rhiannon squeezed his hand and beamed at him, her green eyes twinkled by the glow of the candlelight. "To new beginnings." The Sheriff said as he held his goblet up in front of him.

"New beginnings." They repeated in unison. They all took a sip from their goblet and the feasting began.

"So, where are you staying then, brother?" Lady Rhiannon asked Robert as she tasted the savoury broth.

"At the moment, my lady and I are staying at the inn in the village. When it is feasible I shall have a home built for us." Robert explained.

"There shall be no need. Unless you want to, of course." The Sheriff said.

"My lord?" Robert asked.

"You and your lady shall be afforded an apartment here, in this castle of course. Unless you would prefer otherwise?" The Sheriff said. "But as you can see, the castle is quite grand in scale. You may hardly notice I'm even here." The Sheriff winked as he looked left to Robert.

"Well… this shall be rather cozy indeed!" Robert said. "Thank you, my lord. We would be pleased. However, I would like to have a manor to esca – I mean… visit." He grinned. He looked over to Rhiannon. "It's too bad about my property in Pocklington. I could've sold it and used the money to buy Isabelle and I a nice manor. Perhaps in Nettlestone?" He added, turning to his right to give the Sheriff a knowing grin.

"What do you mean – too bad about your property?" The Sheriff asked, unfazed by Robert's subtle jab.

"Well, it is not mine to sell anymore is it? I lost my rights to it when you arrested me." Robert pointed out.

The Gisbornes and Lady Isabelle fidgeted slightly in discomfiture in their seats at the awkwardness just then.

"The rights to your property and your home were given back to you when your pardon was granted, dear boy." The Sheriff smirked.

"You jest!" Robert exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No. Indeed I do not." The Sheriff said as he took a sip from his goblet.

"Well, I should like to return there then to sell it, my lord. Whenever you see fit to grant me leave, of course." Robert added.

"Indeed." The Sheriff nodded as he tasted the last bit of his broth.

The serving wenches appeared and took their bowls then exited the room. Almost as if perfectly choreographed, Jean Louis appeared in the doorway just then, almost dancing around them holding a platter high in the air with one hand supporting it underneath in a perfect balancing act. Two more serving wenches followed him carrying flasks of wine and plates.

"The venison pies, mon Seigneur Sheriff." Jean Louis announced as he held the tray in front of his master to show him. "See what I mean, mon Seigneur? Aren't they just cute as a button? Absolument precieux!" He exclaimed.

The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north as he looked at him strangely. He nodded to the chef.

The servants put plates in front of them and Jean Louis began to serve them individual golden baked pies.

"Oh, my heavens! This is absolutely divine!" Lady Isabelle exclaimed following her first bite.

"I could eat at least half a dozen of those!" Lady Meridwyn agreed. She turned to her husband on her left. "Guy, you must ask him to make me some of these pies!"

"Yes, dearest." Gisborne sighed. He didn't know what was worse about her condition? The time when she couldn't hold down a morsel of anything? Or now… when she craved everything in sight!

They each agreed the venison pie was quite flavourful and the chef was right about his description of the pastry.

"My lord, we must get him to serve this at our wedding feast." Lady Rhiannon said to the Sheriff.

"If it is your wish, my angel, then it shall be done." The Sheriff smiled.

"You are too good to me." She whispered.

"It is my pleasure." He smiled at her as he sipped from his goblet.

Robert couldn't help but notice their exchange. It appeared they both truly seemed enamoured with each other.

After a time the chef came back with the servants. Two servants removed their plates. The chef placed a platter in the center of the table. The roasted peacock was in the middle of the platter surrounded by baby carrots, leeks, and spiced stewed cabbage. The serving wenches put more plates in front of them then refilled their goblets once more. Jean Louis deftly began carving the peacock then served each of them slices of meat with the vegetables before taking leave of them.

"I have never feasted like this in my entire life, I swear!" Lady Isabelle remarked.

"It is quite something, isn't it Isabelle?" Lady Rhiannon said.

"I'll say!" Isabelle agreed as she savoured the taste of the peacock on her tongue.

"Robert can tell you, we come from a very different background. I pinch myself all of the time. It is like a dream. I swear, everything about this man is like a fairytale." Lady Rhiannon smiled as she looked over at the Sheriff.

His head shot up suddenly as he looked to the right of him to his lady, surprised by her words. He gazed into her eyes and smiled.

"So, uh… this change in you, my lord." Robert began. The Sheriff paused and looked over at him. Robert continued. "Does this have anything to do with my sister?" Robert asked.

"Much of it, yes." The Sheriff said.

"No, cousin. You began to make changes three years ago. Don't you recall? I would say around the time that Lady Marian went to London is when I noticed it." Gisborne said.

"Is that so?" Robert asked the Lieutenant.

"Aye." Gisborne nodded.

"You think so?" The Sheriff challenged his cousin across the table as his eyebrow shot north.

"Indeed. I know it." Gisborne grinned.

"Well, that is surely good to know, Sir Gisborne." Robert said. "For it makes me feel better to know there was _**some**_ good in him before he got mixed up with my sister." Robert said taking a sip from his goblet as he turned to his right and cast the Sheriff an evil grin.

"You wish!" The Sheriff said sarcastically.

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed, exasperated. "Is this what I am to expect then? You two to behave like boys around me now?" Rhiannon cried as she gave scornful looks to her brother and her betrothed.

"Only if he makes me." The Sheriff grinned, nodding to his left.

She sighed and shook her head.

"Oh, come now, sister! We're just having a little fun." Robert smiled.

"Don't think you can't annoy me anymore just because I'm grateful ye are alive!" Lady Rhiannon warned.

"Did I mention she's high spirited?" Robert asked the Sheriff.

"Uh… no. But frankly, I gathered that about her quite some time ago." The Sheriff grinned.

"Lucky _**you**_!" Lady Meridwyn remarked facetiously as she looked to her friend. Then she turned to her left to Guy. "Right now I am quite grateful I was not granted a brother. But don't mention that to mother, will you?"

Gisborne chuckled as he nodded to his wife.

Isabelle looked to her left at her sister in law. "You must tell me what Robert was like when you were growing up, Rhiannon. I've been waiting a long time to hear about this – I never thought I would!" She smiled.

"I shall be glad to tell you _**all**_ about him." Rhiannon grinned.

"I can just imagine what you'll tell her too." Robert sighed as he looked across to his sister with his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, you mean like the time you blew up the shed out back of our manor? I thought father would kill you!" Rhiannon smirked.

Gisborne chuckled.

"Oh, my!" Isabelle exclaimed with a giggle.

"Rhiannon!" Robert admonished.

"My, what a clever lad you were!" The Sheriff remarked facetiously.

"Huh! Now you have _**done**_ it, Rhiannon! Aye. Now you have done it!" Robert shook his head.

Rhiannon smirked and turned to her right. "I'm sure I can think of some other things to share with you too, Isabelle." She said.

"Hmm….isn't this interesting?" The Sheriff said. "My, I had no idea siblings could be so…useful!" He looked across the table. "Isn't that right, cousin?"

"Indeed." Gisborne agreed still chuckling over Rhiannon and Robert's banter.

Lady Meridwyn frowned. She could see where this was heading. "Suddenly I feel very blessed that I am an only child. I don't even have cousins to tell about what I was like!"

"How very odd?" Isabelle commented.

"Yes, isn't it?" Lady Meridwyn agreed.

"Hmm…now Robert, are you going to tell me about your sister then? I'm dying to find out! What was my lady like when she was a little girl?" The Sheriff asked excitedly.

"Oh please." Rhiannon sighed as she bit some meat off her fork and looked at her brother curiously, wondering about his answer.

"Huh! She was a royal pain in my hindquarters!" He grinned.

"Is that a fact?" The Sheriff smiled.

"Oh, Robert!" Lady Rhiannon admonished her brother.

"She was deceitful at times –"

"I had to be because you and Eddie teased me so much when I was young!" Rhiannon pointed out.

"She was very mischievous." Robert winked as he looked to the Sheriff.

"Oh… that I can gather." The Sheriff smirked.

Lady Rhiannon sat back against her chair and folded her arms. "Huh! Like when?" Rhiannon demanded of her brother.

"How about…. like when you stole all of the treats the little Clysdale lass next door had obtained during Samhain?" Robert teased as he took a bite of the meat then grinned at his sister.

The Sheriff's eyes widened. He turned right and looked to his lady. "You devilish little lass, you!" He chuckled to his betrothed.

"Bah! She killed my cat! The rotten little wretch –"

"You had a cat?" The Sheriff asked her. His head swung back to the left when Robert answered.

"Oh, it was a mangy, beastly little bugger." Robert sighed.

"He was the sweetest cat I ever saw!" Rhiannon scorned. "You know how I loved Otis!"

The Sheriff chuckled. "What a curious name for a cat, my dear?" He said.

"He was the best cat ever!" Rhiannon exclaimed as she chewed on her carrots. She swallowed and took a sip of her wine. "That little wretch deserved it!" She added once more as she looked across to her brother.

"I don't think little Emeline Clysdale meant to hit your cat with the arrow, dear sister. She was aiming for the tree he was in." Robert smiled.

"Well she should have damn well been paying attention. At the time I thought she was silly playing boyish games anyway." Rhiannon muttered.

"Oh, my!" The Sheriff chuckled.

"See what I mean?" Lady Gisborne said to her husband. "No siblings. Less complicated."

Gisborne nodded.

A short time later the table was cleared by the servants, and Jean Louis came into the room. He held a tray containing the bowls of baked pears and baked sugar plums. He placed the bowls in the center of table flanking either side of the golden candelabra. Two more serving wenches appeared. One placed bowls of figs, dates, and nuts on the table from the tray she balanced upon her hand. The other refilled their goblets and put a plate of sweet pastries on the table for them. Jean Louis put more golden plates in front of them and served them the baked fruits.

Rhiannon looked around the table to everyone gathered there. This was her family now. How things had changed. She realized it had been years since she had dined with so many people. She took a bite of the sweet, juicy sugar plum. The raspberry syrup that coated it tickled her tongue with a mixture of tang and sweetness. Suddenly she thought of a time many years ago. It was the season of Yule and she was just eight years old. It was six months before her father died – the last time her entire family celebrated Christmas together. The sugar plums reminded her. It was then that her Uncle Edmund and his wife Bibi came to visit with Rhiannon's cousins, Beatrix and Clara. Uncle Edmund brought various sweets, and chocolate covered raisins with him. Auntie Bibi brought a dish she had made for dessert of baked sugar plums and apples. Robert was almost sixteen then. She could still see Robert and Eddie in her minds' eye, standing in the parlour laughing over a cup of mead. She sighed. If only Eddie could come back from the dead. How she missed him!

"My angel?" The Sheriff whispered taking her hand in his. He had noticed she had gone quiet and appeared rather pensive just now. "Are you alright?" He asked.

She looked up at him. Her green eyes were misty.

"My lady?" The Sheriff whispered, concerned. She looked close to… tears!

She leaned in closer to him. "It is nothing, my love." She whispered. "It is just that having my brother here and being with all of you reminds me of the time when my own family celebrated our last Christmas together. It makes me miss… Eddie." She said.

The Sheriff smiled and squeezed her hand.

Robert's ears pricked at the mention of his brother's name.

"He is here, Rhiannon." Robert said to his sister, matter of factly.

The Sheriff's left eyebrow shot north as he regarded Robert curiously.

The Gisbornes and Lady Isabelle stopped talking and turned their attention to Robert.

"What?" Rhiannon asked, incredulous.

"Edward is here with us, sweet sister. You know…" He began as he took his goblet and drank from it. He put the goblet back down and continued. "Christ once said: 'Where two are more are gathered in my name, there I am in the midst of them.' –"

The Sheriff choked slightly while sipping on his wine.

Gisborne coughed nervously.

Robert continued, unfazed. "And I'd like to believe that is true for all of our loved ones who have gone on before us. I'd like to believe it was not over for Edward that day. Not him, dear sister. You _**know**_ how he brought life to every room he entered into?" Robert pointed out.

She nodded and bit her lip.

"I'd like to believe that our dear brother is here with us right now. You know he'd hate to miss anything like this!" Robert added.

Rhiannon smiled. "Aye. You got _**that**_ right, dear brother!"

The Sheriff smiled. It was then he knew exactly what to do about a certain matter that concerned his son. And – he was glad he made the decision to ask Robert to be his son's godfather. He had just proven he was the perfect choice. The Sheriff knew his lady would agree. He took a sip from his wine and pondered for a moment… did Christ _**really**_ say that?


	11. Chapter 66

The Sheriff and his lovely lady were walking together down the long corridor that was aglow with the light of torches blazing on either side of them, toward the stairwell. They had just bid goodnight to their guests and now they were finally alone together.

"I'm pleased to have you back, my lady." The Sheriff said as they mounted the stairs together.

"It feels right. This is where I belong. Wherever you are – that is where I belong." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"You got _**that**_ right, my lady." The Sheriff grinned.

She looked so ravishing. He could hardly wait to get her into his chambers. He wished for wings to fly just then.

"Did you tell your brother of our news?" The Sheriff asked.

"No. I didn't get the chance." Rhiannon said.

"You will." He smiled.

"I know. There just never seemed to be a perfect moment so it shall have to wait. I'd rather tell him in more private company anyway. Although, I don't mind if you and Isabelle are present." Rhiannon explained.

"I understand, my angel." He said.

Finally they made it to the door of his private chambers. He opened it and led her inside. The candles were still burning brightly in the room. She smiled.

Nottingham closed the door behind them and was upon her in seconds. He held her close to him a moment, inhaling the scent of roses from her hair before his lips came down hard upon hers. His kiss was soft and passionate as he languidly drove his tongue past her luscious lips and tasted her tongue with his, leaving her breathless with desire for him.

"My angel…" He breathed as he kissed her neck and took the silver and diamond combs from her hair. Her sable tresses danced with light cast from the candlelight and the blazing torches as it fell and cascaded to her shoulders.

"I missed you." She whispered. "I never want to be away from you again."

"You never will be." The Sheriff said. "Unless…I am away on a mission." He smiled.

Rhiannon looked up at him with a smirk and slowly began toying with the silver and diamond buttons on the bodice of her beautiful, brick orange, raw silk gown. She unfastened them slowly to reveal her perfect body underneath. She did not wear a shift underneath the gown.

"Hmm." The Sheriff grinned as he eyed her appreciatively. "Now I see what you mean about not expecting a good girl when we got back here. I wished I'd known this sooner." He winked.

"Good or naughty, I can be anything you wish for me to be." Rhiannon said with a wink. She slipped her gown off her smooth shoulders and wriggled out of it, letting the raw silk fabric fall to her feet. He smirked and moved toward her to embrace her but she shook her head, grinning at him, and then she knelt before him.

The Sheriff tugged at his collar and closed his eyes. She moved in closer and slowly untied the strings of his codpiece and cast it aside. Next she unlaced his breeches and the soft velvet fabric grazed his skin, teasing him as it fell away. He swallowed.

She reached out and took a hold of him, then moved forward bringing her lips to him. She let her tongue travel the length of his manhood, and flicked at the tip softly before she took him completely in her mouth, enveloping him in the sweet wet softness, slowly sucking and swirling her tongue around him as she augmented the touch of her mouth and her tongue with her hand.

The Sheriff threw his head back and sighed as he brought his hands to either side of her face, holding her head to guide her as he moaned appreciative responses to her expert ministrations. She took her time pleasing him for several glorious minutes. He thought he would die of pure bliss.

"Oh, my beautiful lady. I am so hard for you…" He whispered.

"Good." She said as she stood and threw her arms around his neck. "Because I am… wet for you." She whispered.

"Rhiannon…" He sighed.

"Take me, my love." She said.

The Sheriff picked her up and carried her to the four poster bed. He gently lay her down upon the fine silk linens. She looked up at him and smiled while he kicked off his boots then unbuttoned his black velvet doublet, removed it, then carelessly tossed it to the floor. He cast a smoldering, seductive glance upon her as he leaned down and kissed her. He stretched out on the bed beside her. He took her in his arms as he continued to kiss her while she removed his tunic and his breeches.

"Oh, my lady. You look so… different. So… radiant. Indeed, it is like someone placed a torch inside of you and lit it." The Sheriff smiled as he leaned down over her.

"Because I am so very happy." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"No. It's more than that." He said as put his hand to her breast and kneaded it. Then he brought his lips to her erect, pink rosebud nipple and took it in his mouth, sucking and tasting it with his tongue until she thought she would go mad with desire.

"Your breasts, Rhiannon. They are… different." The Sheriff said as he raised himself up and leaned upon his elbow to gaze down at her. "Is it me, or…have they grown?" The Sheriff asked with his eyes narrowed as he studied them, while he reached over and caressed them with his free hand.

"Uhm…yes, George. I think they have." Rhiannon blushed.

"Why are they bigger?" The Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you." He added with a grin.

"I do not know, but they have been rather tender for awhile now. They do feel bigger. I think it has something to do with… our child growing within me." She said.

"Oh, I see." The Sheriff said. His eyes narrowed again as he mused. "Will they shrink after the child is delivered?" He asked.

"I'm not sure, my love." Rhiannon said with a grin. Leave it to him to have questions about her breasts rather than their child! She tried not to chuckle.

He gazed down upon her and cast her a smoldering glance. Indeed, there was an aura of light about her, more than what the extrinsic candlelight and torchlight could offer her. He licked his lips surreptitiously.

"Aye, beautiful. It is indeed like you are lit from within. I've seen you aglow several times. In fact you're radiant more often than not – but I have _**never**_ seen you like this." The Sheriff smiled warmly.

"If I am radiant and my breasts appear different it is because there is a part of _**you**_ inside of me." Rhiannon smiled seductively as she lowered her dark lashes, then looked up at him with her aqua green eyes, glistening with desire for him. She was on fire for him and dying for him to touch her.

The Sheriff sighed and felt himself growing harder for her. "Rhiannon…" He sighed.

"_**You**_ make me this way, my sweet prince. If I have come to life, it is because of you, but… I already knew that." She winked.

"Oh, my beautiful lady. What the hell did I do to deserve you?" He asked.

"Love me. That is what you did. And speaking of which… where were we?" Rhiannon grinned.

"Patience, my lady. You shall have the rest of our lives to touch my body." The Sheriff grinned. He cleared his throat. "Now, I started to say this months ago, but the moment was soon lost and became quickly forgotten." He began.

"What is it, George?" She asked as her eyes searched his.

The Sheriff swallowed. He hoped his words wouldn't jog her memory, but it was right before she remembered being violated that he planned to do this for her. He sighed then met her gaze with his amber hazel eyes and bore into hers. His eyes burned like blazing torches with desire for her.

"I know nothing of the true taste of you." The Sheriff said with a wink and a sensual smirk.

"My love…" Rhiannon whispered as she closed her eyes and sighed.

"My angel." He whispered as he began to kiss her lips softly. "Let me… please you. I want you to scream for it." The Sheriff said in a raw whisper.

"My prince, you can touch me anywhere and any _**way**_ that you damn well please." She breathed. "I submit to you… body and soul." Rhiannon smiled.

"God, you are such a gift, Rhiannon." He said as he began to kiss her hungrily.

"And you're my dream come true." Rhiannon purred as he moved his body down hers, trailing her with soft and gentle kisses until he touched the place where her desire began for him with his tongue….

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"How much longer are you planning to stay here and keep up with this cursed charade?" Ancel asked of his friend. Once again they were sitting at a table in the local tavern sharing a mug of ale.

"As long as it sodding takes!" Hamon spat.

"What exactly is this grand plan of yours?" Ancel asked as he wiped the froth from his lips with the back of his hand.

"We take from him that which is most precious. As he did to me!" Hamon said sharply.

"Right. And what do you plan to do with her?" Ancel asked with his eyebrow quirked over his intense gray eyes.

"Take a wild guess." Hamon grinned malevolently.

"You're planning to kill her." Ancel surmised.

"Not just kill her." Hamon said as he put his mug on the table and leaned in closer. He clasped his hands together and rested his chin upon them. "She is going to burn. Exactly the way my sister did." Hamon snarled.

"He is going to find out we're here. Especially after the run in we had with his Knights only a week ago! Your plans shall be thwarted." Ancel pointed out.

"Not if he thinks I went back to Portsmouth." Hamon said with a knowing look.

"What are you up to?" Ancel asked as his eyebrow shot north.

"You shall see. But we're leaving that inn." Hamon said as he picked up the mug again and took a sip of the frothy ale.

"And then what?"

"We bide our time. I'll know when the timing is right. I need to know more first. Obviously you were wrong about their wedding plans!" Hamon admonished his henchman.

"How was I to know it had been called off?" Ancel spat. "And what does it matter? How shall the blacksmith find you? You commissioned him to obtain Spanish steel for you yesterday, or have you forgotten?" Ancel pointed out.

"Tell me, Ancel: do you _**ever**_ use that brain of yours?" Hamon seethed. He shook his head and sighed. "I will find the blacksmith. You let me do the thinking and trust me. Do not question me. I have it all figured out." Hamon grinned knowingly as he took another sip from his mug.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was early morning of Friday October third that Robert Wordsworth first reported for duty at Nottingham Castle. He was accompanied by Officer Luke of the Black Knights, who showed him past the portcullis then inside the castle as per his master's request. Robert spotted the Sheriff walking down the long corridor of the main level of the castle toward him.

"Good day, Wordsworth. Are you ready to see the armoury then?" The Sheriff said as he came toward him.

"Aye. I'm ready to begin." Robert smiled.

The Sheriff nodded then looked to Luke. "Thank you, Luke. You may go, but I wish to meet with you in the Council Quarters in one hour hence." The Sheriff said.

"Aye. As you wish, my lord." Luke nodded before he turned to take leave.

"I thought you may wish to get settled into your apartment here first?" The Sheriff said to Robert after Luke had left.

"My lady is packing our things for us now – what little we have with us. I will bring her later when my tour of duty is completed." Robert said.

"Splendid." The Sheriff said. Then his eyebrow shot north before he continued. "But, seriously Wordsworth, what in the devil would your wife need to pack? You two were prisoners. You had nothing when you got here!" The Sheriff pointed out, incredulous.

"Truthfully, my lord, I believe she would feel more comfortable if I was with her and didn't have to leave her alone there, at least at first." Robert explained.

"Oh. I see." The Sheriff nodded. "Well, come then. I shall take you to the armoury personally. I need to have a word anyway with my present blacksmith, Stephanus. He will assume he shall need to take leave when he meets you. I would like to be there to tell him the news myself, poor cursed soul." The Sheriff shook his head and clicked his tongue against his palate a few beats.

"Oh. What news is that, Nottingham? Or may I ask?" Robert said.

"You are right to ask, Wordsworth. The news is that he shall remain employed here… as your assistant." The Sheriff winked with a knowing smirk.

"What? But you said the man was blind!" Robert spat.

"He is not completely blind yet, and for a man who can't see within an inch in front of him…" The Sheriff began with his eyebrow quirked. Then he narrowed his eyes and rubbed his raven black beard thoughtfully. "Aye, you know, for a man as blind as he, he did damn well on the hauberks, poleyns, helms, and the couters!" The Sheriff exclaimed with a grin.

"My lord, with all due respect, if he has not his sight, he shall be useless to me." Robert stated matter of factly.

"You shall find use for him! What shall he do for employment then?" The Sheriff demanded.

"My, you really _**have**_ changed!" Robert teased. "You actually _**do**_ care about some folks!"

"Oh, shut it!" The Sheriff growled. "I can _**still**_ toss you into my dungeon, Wordsworth! It's only at the other end of the sublevel where I'm taking you!" The Sheriff exclaimed.

"Great. No sodding windows." Robert spat. "How utterly… thoughtful of you." He sighed.

The Sheriff shook his head and sighed. They continued walking as the Sheriff led him down the stairs that took them to the sublevel. Fifteen minutes later they stood at the threshold of the armoury in the north wing of the castle. Robert noted it to be a large room and well manned. It was lit by several torches, but unfortunately they added to the heat in the room. For fires also blazed about the chamber as several men were using it to coax metal into blades for swords, and various pieces of armour. He wondered who in this room would know of the Sheriff's source for Spanish steel? Was the Sheriff still using Spanish steel? Would the blind blacksmith know? Robert hated to admit it as he didn't trust that man at the inn, but he could surely use those extra fifty gold pieces. It would be awhile before he would collect his first wages from the Sheriff.

"Come. I can see him up ahead." The Sheriff said to Robert.

The Sheriff led Robert to an area near the back of the armoury. Stephanus was there speaking to another of the men who worked in the armoury. The shorter man whispered something to Stephanus, then Stephanus turned in the Sheriff's direction as the other man took leave of him.

"My Lord Sheriff? Is that you?" Stephanus asked when he sensed the Sheriff had moved in closer to him.

"Yes, Stephanus. It is I, your master." The Sheriff said.

Robert sighed and began to shift uncomfortably.

"Stephanus, I have someone here to meet you. He shall be employed as my blacksmith." The Sheriff said.

Stephanus swallowed.

Robert stepped forward and extended his right hand. He lightly touched the man's wrist first to let him know of his presence. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Robert Wordsworth of Pocklington." Robert said as he shook the graying haired man's hand.

"Indeed. I am Stephanus." The blacksmith said. He released Robert's grip and looked toward the Sheriff. "Right. Well, it's been good, my lord. I shall be going then." Stephanus smiled ruefully as he began to take his leave.

The Sheriff reached out and held Stephanus' arm to stay him when the blacksmith neared him. "Go…where exactly? Where do you have to go, Stephanus?" The Sheriff asked pointedly.

"My lord?" Stephanus asked, bewildered.

"You have _**nowhere**_ to go. You shall stay working for me, and you shall retain your quarters in the castle. You shall assist Robert." The Sheriff said.

"You must be jesting, my lord!" Stephanus cried.

"No. I am not." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north. He looked to his two blacksmiths as he continued. "Why am I always asked that? – 'Are you jesting?'? Do I really seem that heartless?" He asked.

"Yes." They both replied in unison with not a moments' hesitation.

The Sheriff shook his head then looked back to Stephanus. "Today is Robert's first tour of duty. You shall show him around the armoury and bring him up to speed on the current little projects you're working on at the moment. He will be taking over for you but you shall assist him in whatever he asks of you. Unless… you would rather be homeless?" The Sheriff added with his eyebrow quirked.

"No, my lord. I shall be pleased to continue working in your armoury." Stephanus smiled gratefully.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A short time later the Sheriff saw the page on the main level of the castle as he strolled past the library.

"Page!" The Sheriff called to him.

"Yes, sir?" The young blond lad replied as he scurried over to his master.

"Find me Gisborne, Duke Farnsworth, and Officer Mordrid of the Black Knights. Tell them to meet me in the Council Quarters in thirty minutes hence." The Sheriff directed him. He had a new assignment for his men now. He relieved the Duke and Mordrid from their posts at Rhiannon's manor yesterday, when he knew Lady Rhiannon was coming back. They had been instructed to remain there until she left, then follow her discreetly on the way back to Nottingham Castle to see to her safety.

"Very well, sir." The page nodded obediently before he hurried off to carry out the task.

The Sheriff continued to his chambers. Lady Rhiannon was still asleep when he left her, and he needed to remind her of the meeting with Galfrey today. He smiled as he ascended the stairs to the second floor of the north wing leading to his chambers, when he thought of the number of times last night she had pleased him, and the variety of ways that she achieved it. He was the luckiest man in England as far as he was concerned. Not only was she beautiful, she was very astute, she even knew a language that he didn't, and she seemed to take great care to please him in every way possible! The Sheriff sighed as he pushed that nagging intrusive thought from his mind that kept warning him that Lady Rhiannon was just too damned good to be true. The woman was near perfect! He had a gnawing sick feeling again, ever since they reconciled in fact, that something terrible was about to go awry, this time it had only to do with her. Like a perception that something was going to happen to her that would put her in mortal danger…again. _ No. You're just thinking like that because you've nearly lost her…hmm. How many times is it now? Two? No. Three! No! Four if you want to include the time that you chose to quarrel for nearly a fortnight. She wasn't half dead then like the other times but she didn't want you, or you thought! No, everything is fine! She is with child. She is carrying your child, you fool! You shall marry her, you shall tell her of our son. What could possibly go wrong?_ Then his eyes widened. Was he having a sense of danger about her because maybe something might go wrong when the child was birthed from her body? He'd heard of this happening. He knew it happened to Rhiannon's mother. It also happened to his own mother! Lady Aelesia Nottingham died when the Sheriff was only a year old, when she was delivering her second son. The one who died at birth - nameless. Alas, there was nobody to name the boy. The Sheriff's father - Giles Nottingham, had died when his mother was carrying the brother that the Sheriff never knew. The Sheriff's father was murdered by a common thief who stole into the castle – when his father drew his sword to defend his gold – which is why the Sheriff had such a bone to pick with Locksley and his cursed rabble three years ago! The Sheriff shuddered. He prayed to Zeus that nothing would happen to his lovely Rhiannon while she was giving their child life!

He was startled when some moments later, he was walking into his private chambers and he found his lady to be at the window, leaning over it, with her head hanging out of it.

"Rhiannon? What in the devil?" He exclaimed as he came up behind her. She was wearing her burgundy velvet dressing gown. He placed his hand upon her shoulder and touched the soft fabric.

Lady Rhiannon didn't speak, just merely moaned an inaudible response. The Sheriff put his arm around her and leaned over to speak with her.

"My love! What is it?" The Sheriff asked urgently.

"I need…air." Lady Rhiannon muttered.

"Are you alright?" The Sheriff asked.

She slowly straightened herself up and turned toward him. Her face had lost all of its' colour and once again tiny beads of perspiration had formed on her forehead and cheeks.

"Rhiannon!" The Sheriff exclaimed as his eyes widened in horror.

"Do not worry yourself over me, George. You were the one who wanted children. Well, this is what must come with it. Every cursed morning to be exact!" She spat.

"My angel, perhaps it shall be better in time. Lady Gisborne seems to be faring much better?" The Sheriff offered.

"I loathe feeling like this." Rhiannon muttered as her hand flew up to her forehead and she closed her eyes and grimaced.

"Perhaps you should lie down, my angel?" The Sheriff suggested.

Rhiannon's eyes flew open at the suggestion. "Oh, no. If I do that, I shall have to live through this all over again the moment I lift my head from the pillow! I'm telling you, George – it is like a curse!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

"My love, there must be something I can do?" The Sheriff asked. At that moment he was very grateful to be born a lad instead of a wee lass. Children should just show up at people's homes in baskets. It would be so much easier! He hated to see his lady feeling so unwell. _Although, I do quite like her breasts this way._ He mused as he stifled the grin that threatened to form. Her velvet dressing gown was open to just below her cleavage. The Sheriff couldn't help but notice them peaking out of it, inviting his touch. He swallowed before he continued. "Perhaps you shall feel better after you break your fast?" The Sheriff added.

"Oh, God! Do _**not**_ mention food to me, George!" Rhiannon exclaimed as her palm moved down from her forehead to cover her mouth. She looked like she might heave.

The Sheriff took a step backward subconsciously as he looked upon her with concern.

"I'm sending for Thomas." The Sheriff said resolutely.

"No. I do not want Thomas. What does he know of what a woman feels when she is carrying a child?" Lady Rhiannon pointed out. "You know _**exactly**_ whom I need! Although, I doubt she'd have recommendations for this. She'd probably tell me to quit complaining and that I had better get used to it!" Rhiannon huffed.

The Sheriff swallowed. Curses! He knew exactly whom Rhiannon referred to, but Lady Margaret was at Guy's manor in Nettlestone overseeing the care of their son. The son that he still needed to tell Rhiannon about!

"Thomas knows what to do, my angel. He is a physician after all." The Sheriff soothed.

"It is time I have a midwife see to my care." Lady Rhiannon said.

"I thought you didn't care for Lady Margaret?" The Sheriff pointed out. Perhaps this fact shall make her back off and change her mind?

"Oh, it is true the lady can be overbearing, I can't argue with that, but she is knowledgeable and she is the only decent midwife in the village. You know that, George!" Rhiannon pleaded. "I would feel so much more at ease with her, my prince." Rhiannon added as she looked downcast and took some deep breaths to stay the nausea.

"I will see what I can do." The Sheriff sighed. "And in the meantime, is there anything else that might help you?" He asked.

She turned back to the window and hung her head out of it again. Then she suddenly had a thought. She remembered that Meridwyn swore up and down that the remedy had helped her. "Aye, there is one thing." Rhiannon said, though she was loathed to suggest it.

"What is that, my lady?" The Sheriff asked as he moved beside her and leaned down to her face again. She was going to catch her death from the chill autumn air if she persisted with this!

She turned her head to the right to look at him, still keeping her head hanging outside of the window. "Mortianna's batwing tea." She said flatly.

"What?" The Sheriff asked, incredulous.

"Meridwyn swears to me it's the only thing that helped her with…this. I'm willing to try anything if I have to." Rhiannon sighed.

The Sheriff shook his head. "Alright, my angel. If that is your wish I will send for her. I shall do that now, for I must go. I need to meet with Gisborne and some of my staff, but I needed to remind you we have a meeting with Galfrey later, my dear. He is the man who comes to us from Nettlestone whom you shall meet to discuss the flowers for our wedding." The Sheriff explained. He reached over and smoothed her hair, then began to massage her shoulder. "My angel, do you think you will be up for it? We can do this another time." The Sheriff suggested.

"No, I will be fine. This usually only lasts for a couple of hours. There has been the rare occasion I have felt like this… all day, however." She lamented. When she saw the shock registered upon his face she wished she had kept that bit of information to herself.

"My God, Rhiannon!" The Sheriff exclaimed. Must she suffer the entire time?

She quirked her eyebrow and looked over at him. "Aye, my prince. Your child is sucking the life force out of me if the _**honest**_ truth be told." Rhiannon frowned. "Yesterday morning was unusual for me. This is how I generally greet each day now." She added.

Nottingham shook his head. He had no idea that this condition could cause a lady to suffer so! Did his own mother suffer like this? He wished he could ask her. Once again, this was one of the few times in his life he yearned for his mother's presence. He sighed. The Sheriff prayed to Zeus that she wouldn't be miserable for the entire duration of it. It was bad enough what was coming! He shuddered.

"I shall check on you again before I go into the village after my meeting." The Sheriff sighed. "If you're going to have one of those days you just described, we will definitely postpone our meeting with Galfrey." The Sheriff soothed.

"That's fine, my love. I do hope this shall pass. I do not wish to postpone our meeting with him but I can tell you that if this doesn't pass, I won't wish to be speaking with anybody!" She exclaimed. She turned her head away and inhaled some sharp breaths of the crisp autumn air. "You best summon Mortianna, my lord." Rhiannon sighed. "Or at least back away." She added as a suggestion.

"Yes." The Sheriff said shaking his head as he straightened up, then headed to the door. As he neared the doorway of the inner chamber he turned back to face her. "I will return, my angel. Send my sentry to the Council Quarters to summon me if you need me." He added.

She turned back and smiled at him weakly.

The Sheriff sent the sentry posted outside of the door to summon Mortianna. He already had enough places to go and people to see today than to add one more to the list. _Let's see now… my men, Homely Hamon, that conniving little whore – Celestria, and Galfrey._ He shook his head and sighed and made his way back down to the Council Quarters.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

His Lieutenant was the first to appear. The Sheriff was grateful, for he had matters of a personal nature to discuss with his cousin as well as orders of business.

"You summoned, cousin? Does this have anything to do with that unfortunate looking one in Portsmouth?" Gisborne asked as he strolled into the meeting room.

"Aye. You're very perceptive, cousin." The Sheriff said as he walked toward him. "I told you that Luke mentioned the homely little insect is staying right here in Nottingham?" The Sheriff began to jog his memory.

"Aye. You did, my lord." Gisborne nodded.

"Well, there's only one place he could be staying, unless he has more cursed relatives living here!" The Sheriff spat.

"Indeed. He must be staying at the inn in the village." Guy said.

"So we go there to find him. He tried to start something with my men last week at the local tavern!" The Sheriff growled as he paused to pour water from the pitcher on the oak table into a silver goblet. He lifted the goblet to his lips and sipped from it.

"Which ones?" Guy asked.

"Luke, Drake, and Adam." The Sheriff said. "He gave them a message to relay to me. He said I should keep an eye on my belongings – whatever the hell _**that**_ means." The Sheriff sighed as he rolled his eyes.

"What shall we do with him if we find him there?" Gisborne asked.

"We drag him back here, throw him into the dungeon, let him sweat it out in there for a good length of time, and then you shall interrogate him for me. And naturally, if he won't cooperate, we torture the hell out of the sodding bastard! That rotten little insect us up to something, Guy. I can feel it in my gut! You know how my gut is _**always**_ right!" The Sheriff added as his eyebrow shot north.

"Aye, cousin." Guy nodded. "And then what will you do with him, after you torture him, that is?"

"Well, it would be more effective if he was there at his home when we barge into it to charge him with heresy, but I guess we will be making a trip to Portsmouth, regardless of what we find at the inn." The Sheriff grinned knowingly with his eyebrow quirked again.

"Indeed, cousin." Guy agreed. "You're determined to see this man dead." He sighed.

"I'm telling you, that cursed insect is up to something. I can feel it, Guy. He's a liability. He's better dead. We'll all be better off with him dead!" The Sheriff spat.

"Aye." Gisborne nodded resignedly.

"Now, I'm glad you arrived here early. I need to ask you a personal question." The Sheriff said, quickly changing the subject.

"What is it, cousin?" Guy asked, his curiousity piqued.

"How long was it before… Lady Gisborne started to feel a little better with this condition of hers?" The Sheriff asked.

"She was miserable until just recently, my lord. She's only been feeling fit for the last week." Guy said.

"Oh, dear Zeus!" The Sheriff exclaimed in disbelief.

"What is it, George?" Guy asked.

The Sheriff shook his head. "I just hate to see my angel suffering so. You should see her now, cousin. I just left her. She was leaning out of the window in my private chamber, deeply inhaling the frigid autumn air in an attempt to stop herself from heaving up all over the chamber!" The Sheriff exclaimed in shock.

Gisborne tried not to chuckle. He slapped his cousin playfully on the back. "Cheer up, cousin. In a few weeks time ye shall be lamenting about the fact that you will not be able to keep your kitchens stocked well enough!" Guy grinned.

The Sheriff looked at his cousin strangely. "What in the devil?" He asked.

"Aye. For many weeks my bride couldn't hold down one blessed morsel – at any time of the day. Now… she craves everything in sight! I cannot go to her now unless I bring forth a tray to her!" Gisborne exclaimed, still shocked at Lady Meridwyn's endless hunger.

"Why can't they just have normal appetites!" The Sheriff spat as he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"It's like I told you before, cousin: it is indeed one of the mysteries of the universe." Guy sighed, shaking his head.

The Sheriff shook his head and put his goblet back down on the table. Just then the door opened and his sentry announced the arrival of his men. The Sheriff gestured for the guard to show them in.

Duke Farnsworth, and Officers Luke and Mordrid of the Black Knights entered into the meeting room to answer their master's summons. The sentry closed the door and returned to his post outside of the chamber.

"You have a task for us, my lord?" The Duke asked as the group advanced closer to the Sheriff.

Nottingham slowly walked toward his men. "Yes. As you know there is a matter I'm dealing with concerning a troublesome man from Portsmouth." The Sheriff began. He looked to Luke. "You've met with him, Luke." He said with his eyebrow quirked knowingly.

"My lord?" Luke asked.

"The loathsome drunk you and your comrades came across last week in the tavern!" The Sheriff spat. "The same one who caused the commotion in the courtyard the day I hired you back in August – although, I suppose I should be grateful to the sodding bastard for that." The Sheriff sighed.

"Oh. Right, my Lord Sheriff." Luke nodded. "And how might I be of service in the matter then?" Luke asked.

The Sheriff smiled then looked to his Lieutenant. "Now you see why I hired him, Gis? He doesn't even wait for instruction. He just naturally assumes he has a duty to perform!" The Sheriff exclaimed. "Why aren't they _**all**_ like this!" He spat.

"Indeed, cousin." Gisborne sighed.

"My Lord Sheriff, pardon me, but what is our assignment now?" Mordrid interrupted as he pushed a long wheat coloured lock from his piercing blue eyes. "For surely that is why you have summoned us here?" He added curiously.

Duke Farnsworth folded his arms and nodded as he awaited the response from his master. Luke turned his attention to the Sheriff and waited curiously for his answer.

"You are correct, Mordrid." The Sheriff said. He looked to Gisborne and shot him a knowing glance before he turned his attention back to his men.

"You are my top three men after Gisborne. My Lieutenant and I need to pay a visit to Portsmouth, though I'm not sure when. I will know better after I go to seek him at the inn." The Sheriff explained. He looked to Duke Farnsworth. "You are my lead investigator and Captain of the Black Knights. You shall be in charge in my absence when Gisborne and I venture to Portsmouth." The Sheriff said.

"Very well, my lord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

The Sheriff looked over to Luke. "Luke, you and your comrades are the only of my men besides Gisborne to have had the sheer and utter misfortune of looking upon this homely, sodding bastard I seek. Though you three are the only ones to have seen this comrade of his. For now your duties shall remain the same. You, along with Drake and Adam shall man the portcullis because you shall recognize him and or his henchman if either of them has the audacity to come calling here!" The Sheriff spat. "And if either of them do show up, you shall hold them for me." He added.

"As you wish, my lord." Luke nodded.

"But assuming he doesn't show up, when Gisborne and I, and one other of my Knights, as well as the Bishop of Hereford head into Portsmouth, than you shall be assigned to be guardian of my lady. You shall follow her _**everywhere**_ save for the privy chamber! You shall guard her door when she sleeps." The Sheriff said. "_**Every **_time she sleeps." He added. For he knew that his lady was prone to fatigue in her current condition, but he didn't feel like explaining this to his men just now.

Luke widened his eyes in astonishment. "My lord?" He asked, shaking his head.

"You will do it, Luke. You are ready, lad." The Sheriff nodded to the newest and one of the finest additions to his Black Knights.

"Very well, my Lord Sheriff." Luke agreed, still stunned that the Sheriff already trusted him with Lady Rhiannon's life. He swallowed when he remembered what Adam said to him just two days ago in reference to the former jailer whom the Sheriff had hanged for treason. _"And that is the reason you never want to get on the Sheriff's bad side."_ He could still hear Adam's voice echoing the words. Luke felt a chill travel the length of his spine. He did not wish to fail the Sheriff.

"You mentioned the Bishop, my lord. Is this the one you were telling me about? The probable heresy trial that was forthcoming?" Duke Farnsworth inquired.

"The one and only!" The Sheriff grinned.

"And…what of me, my lord?" Mordrid asked.

"You're coming with us." The Sheriff announced.

"My lord?" Mordrid asked, just as surprised as Luke. He had never been asked to accompany the Sheriff and his Lieutenant, not without the Captain present!

"Aye. If he still has his henchman with him, than Gis and I could do with some reinforcement." The Sheriff said.

"My lord, you mentioned you would be taking one other of your Knights to Portsmouth with you, along with your Lieutenant, and the Bishop." Mordrid began. He swallowed. "Surely you did not mean...me?"

"Aye. You catch on fast, Mordrid." The Sheriff winked.

Mordrid shook his head in disbelief. "The Duke and I have always been partners, your lordship. Before that it was Nic! Aye, I have always been accompanied by your Captain, except for only two occasions." Mordrid pointed out.

"And my Captain has been extolling your virtues to me for years, Mordrid. Now you shall have your moment to prove it. You're coming with us." The Sheriff said sternly.

Mordrid sighed. "Aye, my Lord Sheriff. When?"

"We're heading to the stables now." The Sheriff said, forgetting that he promised his lady he would check on her again. Indeed he was too excited over the thought of the chase now to think of it. Then he narrowed his eyes a moment. "Or…maybe not?" He added absently.

"My lord?" Mordrid asked, bewildered.

The Sheriff ignored him and looked to Luke. "When did you say Galfrey would be coming again, lad?" He asked.

"He said it would be probably just after midday, my lord." Luke replied.

"Good! Then we have plenty of time to go and make an arrest at Nottingham Inn!" The Sheriff exclaimed with a malevolent grin. "Gisborne, Mordrid, you're both coming with me. Luke and Farnsworth, you two can assume the new assignments I just handed to you." The Sheriff directed them.

Duke Farnsworth and Officer Luke took their leave to assume their tasks, as the Sheriff took his Lieutenant and Officer Mordrid to the stables to mount their horses. The Sheriff almost hoped to find him at the inn, even though it would be amusing to see the look on the cursed man's face when they all showed up at his home in Portsmouth, then make him sweat it out before the Sheriff would have Gisborne uncover the items he had previously planted there. Nottingham grinned at the thought of the look of horror that would pass over the man's face when the curious items were uncovered in his own home. Aye, he had some grand plans in store for this sodding, annoying little pest!


	12. Chapter 67

An hour later the Sheriff and his men were securing their horses some twenty yards away from the front entrance at Nottingham Inn, which was just outside of the city walls and along the route to London. For that reason it was set in a perfect location and always attracted plenty of business. For the inn seldom offered rooms available, which is why the Sheriff couldn't understand the trouble he had with the innkeeper in the early part of the year in ninety six. The Sheriff shook his head as he remembered it. Moments later they stood at the heavy oak door. The Sheriff banged upon the door using the large iron ring as he had the day before.

Erasmus, the innkeeper answered the knock once again. The stout middle aged man with the balding silver hair silenced a gasp when he looked upon his guests. If the Sheriff was here with his henchman as well as one of his Knights, then this could _**not**_ be a good sign!

"My Lord Sheriff, what can I do for you?" Erasmus asked in trepidation. "Are you here to see one of the patrons again?"

"In a manner of speaking." The Sheriff remarked evasively with a calculating grin.

"My lord?"

"I am seeking a man whom I believe to be staying at your inn. He has a companion with him I am told." The Sheriff said.

"Oh?" The innkeeper asked.

"The man's name is Hamon, though he might have given you a different name. He's rather unfortunate in appearance. He is rather short, stout, and he has balding, reddish hair. I couldn't describe his comrade, however." The Sheriff frowned. He looked to his Lieutenant. "Curses! Why didn't I ask Luke to describe him to me?" He spat.

"I know whom you mean, my lord." Erasmus interrupted his Sheriff's outburst before Gisborne could reply.

"Where is he?" The Sheriff demanded, his right hand upon the handle of his sword.

"He vacated his room this morning." Erasmus said.

"What of his henchman?" The Sheriff asked.

"They are both gone, my lord." The innkeeper replied.

"Where? Did they mention where they were headed?" The Sheriff asked pointedly as his eyebrow shot north.

"No, sir. They just up and… disappeared. Disappeared without a word…or payment!" Erasmus huffed.

"He's lying!" Gisborne spat. "As usual!"

"What? No! I tell you the – "

"He's sheltering outlaws, sire. Look at him! I say we search the place." Gisborne sneered.

Mordrid folded his arms and nodded. Who was he to disagree?

"You might have a point, Gis." The Sheriff said. "Glad to see you're focused for once." He added with a smirk.

"No, my lord. I am speaking truth! You may search if you insist, but I say to you: the maids found their rooms to be vacated just after dawn." Erasmus explained.

The Sheriff reached over and patted the innkeeper's cheek. "Oh, I _**would**_ believe you, but there was that time just over a year ago where you tried to play games with me and my tax collector." The Sheriff said slowly, toying with the man as he narrowed his eyes upon him. "You recall, don't you, Erasmus? You almost escaped paying taxes on this cursed inn of yours for the first quarter of the year! If I recall correctly, you came up with some fine stories to lend to your excuses! Hmm, let's see now…" The Sheriff mused as he rubbed his dark beard on his chin. His left eyebrow shot north as he bore into the innkeeper's eyes with his. The innkeeper swallowed as Nottingham continued. "First you said your mother was dying. Next you mentioned you had already given _**me**_ the tax money. Then you told Gregor that the whole family was dying! Yes! Wasn't it – that they had been sent to a leper colony? As if _**I**_ wouldn't know that an entire cursed family in my village would require banishment to a leper colony?" The Sheriff demanded, his voice raised a decibel or two.

Erasmus sighed and looked downcast. "My lord." He murmured in humility.

The Sheriff looked to Gisborne and Officer Mordrid. "Search the premises… every cursed square _**inch**_ of it!" He directed them. "Gisborne, you've seen the cursed insect, so find him and his loathed companion and both of you bring them to me at once – if they are indeed here. I need to stop somewhere on the way back to the castle before my meeting with Galfrey." The Sheriff said.

"Very well." Gisborne agreed.

"After that, you two will report back to me and I'll decide when we're heading into Portsmouth." The Sheriff said.

"As you wish, sire." Gisborne nodded. He looked to Mordrid and they left to begin their task, starting at the last room on their right and working their way to the other end.

The Sheriff looked to the innkeeper once more before he turned to go back to his horse. "You better pray they find nothing, for I've just about had enough of your cursed little games!" Nottingham snarled.

The innkeeper nodded and the Sheriff took his leave.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff needed to travel to the other side of town to visit the next place on his agenda. As he kicked the midnight black equine and urged the horse into a gallop, he frowned. He knew that cursed, scheming little whore was up to something. He had an idea of what it was but he was going to stop her before she could threaten his forthcoming marriage. No wench was going to dare to trick him and get away with it!

Another hour later he was slowing the horse outside of the brothel. He secured it to a tree a short distance from the door and walked down the cobblestone path that led to the entrance.

The door opened moments later. Madam Birghiva was unsuccessful at concealing her frown when she saw who had come calling. She sighed.

"She has still not returned, the cursed little brat! And if Lord Rothwell comes here one more time – "

"Tell me another story!" The Sheriff spat as he pushed her aside and walked past the threshold.

Madam Birghiva's flaming auburn hair was pinned up upon her head, and the loose tendrils framing her face danced with light as she shook her head vehemently.

"I'm telling the truth, my lord. I wish to God she _**was **_back. She's left me in a right predicament around here if the truth be told!" Madam Birghiva exclaimed.

"We shall see about that!" The Sheriff spat as he drew his sword and completely shocked the Madam by heading in the direction of the stairs.

"What are you doing, my Lord Sheriff?" Madam Birghiva demanded as her eyebrow quirked over her fiery amber eyes.

"Taking a look around." The Sheriff said sharply. "You better hope I don't find the cursed little bitch in this _**fine**_ establishment of yours!" He spat.

"What has she done?" Madam Birghiva exclaimed in astonishment as she ran after him. She was angry with her mistress for abruptly leaving her, but she couldn't fathom why the lass would be hunted down by the Sheriff?

"Suffice to say the conniving little whore tricked me. She poisoned me. It could be argued she made an attempt on my life! I'm sure you can imagine the punishment for _**that**_?" The Sheriff added as his eyebrow shot north.

"Aye." Madam Birghiva swallowed.

"Then… I'm sure you can guess what _**your**_ punishment shall be if you are found to be sheltering her? He added with a knowing smirk as he patted the Madam's cheek.

"Aye – but you shall not find her here!" Madam Birghiva said as she planted her hands firmly upon her hips in defiance.

"You let _**me**_ be the judge of that." He snarled as he made his way up the stairs.

He found a few rooms to be empty. Next he found an unfamiliar consort to be lazily still sleeping. The indolent little whore tossed her boot at him and he managed to close the door in time. He heard the boot thud against the door a moment later. Next he threw open another door and was greeted by shrieks from a group of half a dozen courtesans who had gathered – half dressed, in one of the wenches chambers. The Sheriff shook his head and slammed the door shut without saying a word.

The next and last two rooms presented awkward circumstances because he found courtesans engaged in acts of copulation with men whom he thankfully did not recognize.

"What the hell do you want?" The feisty blond courtesan in the last chamber demanded when she was interrupted while she took the nobleman's manhood in her mouth. She was kneeling before the man – naked , just as Rhiannon had done for the Sheriff the night before. Nottingham managed to suppress his arousal at the sight before him as he remembered his lovely lady's talented ministrations.

"I'm looking for Mistress Celestria." The Sheriff announced nonchalantly.

"Huh! Aren't they all?" The blond consort sighed as she grabbed her dressing gown from the floor beside her and hastily threw it on. She stood, pulling the pink, oriental silk gown closed around her and walked toward the door as she eyed the tall, dark haired man appreciatively. She grinned when she was less than a foot away from him. "Would she do _**that**_ for you? What you just saw me do for him?" She smirked as she nodded back to the man who stood behind her near the bed, annoyed that they had been interrupted.

"I'm not here to bed the whore!" The Sheriff spat.

"Sure. That's what they all say! Why don't you come on in and join us, honey? It's been awhile since I've had the pleasure of servicing _**two**_ handsome devils at once!" She winked with glee.

"Do you _**know**_ who I am, wench?" The Sheriff demanded.

"Should I?" The consort asked as she eyed him up and down. She folded her arms in front of her, then began to rub her chin as she mused. "Well, you _**are**_ rather distinguished looking, I'll give you that." She grinned. Then she shook her head. "Hmm. Sorry. No. I don't know you. Why don't you humour me? I could do with a good bit of amusement – what exactly is it that you're supposed to be famous for?"

"I am your Sheriff!" The Sheriff exclaimed in frustration.

"My! _**Real**_ nobility! What are you doing lurking about in a place like this then? Shouldn't you be attending court or something?" She asked with a devious chuckle.

"Have you seen the courtesan Celestria, or not?" The Sheriff demanded as he rolled his eyes.

"I've never met her. I've only heard of her – from several people, especially that Rothwell character who keeps showing up to ask for her!" The consort huffed. "I am new here. I only just arrived in town five days ago." She added.

The Sheriff shook his head. "And this is the best you can do? Do your parents know where you are?" He retorted as he turned to leave. She didn't look much older than fifteen!

"Wouldn't you like to see what it feels like, handsome?" The courtesan asked him playfully.

"What the hell are you muttering about?" The Sheriff spat.

"What I was doing for…him." The consort said as she nodded to the man behind her. "For _**you**_ – I would do it for free." She grinned as she eyed him up and down once more. He felt like he was being undressed by her eyes.

"Bah! I know all about it, whore – from a _**real**_ lady!" He barked as he closed the door in her face and slammed it.

The impetuous whore! The Sheriff was grateful just then that the first and only time he had been touched by a woman as intimately as he had just witnessed was by his Lady Rhiannon. And then another thought came to him. _Rhiannon! Curses! I was supposed to see to her before I left. How long have I been gone now? Would she believe my meeting was delayed? No – that shall never work! She is far too astute to trick!_

Madam Birghiva stood at the bottom of the stairwell eyeing the Sheriff knowingly with her eyebrow quirked and her arms folded across her chest.

"Told you you'd never find her!" The Madam exclaimed victoriously, and rather brazenly considering whom she was speaking to.

The Sheriff stopped when he was less than two feet in front of her and narrowed his eyes, burning them into hers.

"You shall send word to me of her arrival the very _**second**_ she steps one foot inside of this cursed business of yours. And if I find out you warned her of the trouble she's in and aided her in any way – your fate shall be the same as hers!" The Sheriff exclaimed sharply. He reached out and ran his guantlet covered right hand along her cheek. "And… won't that be a shame for the gentlemen in the village and surrounding areas?" He snarled as his eyebrow shot north.

"Aye, my Lord Sheriff. I will let you know when I hear anything from her." The Madam nodded.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff turned his thoughts back to Rhiannon as he rode down the long, winding path toward the castle. If he headed in the opposite direction it would lead him to Sherwood. Briefly, for a fleeting second, he wondered if Locksley ever visited the brothel – or was he too self righteous for it?

He was going to tell her after their meeting with the man who owned the greenhouse. It was time. She needed to know about their son! The child would be half a year old by the time he married Rhiannon. His boy – the nameless wonder! Just like the Sheriff's brother – if he could call him that. Only this would be worse! The Sheriff's son would soon be learning to speak. He shall know he has no name! Nottingham shook his head and sighed. _Am I imagining it, or is my life suddenly ten times more complicated that it ever was?_

He didn't have any idea what he would say or how he would tell her, but by the time he had his hand upon the handle of the door of his private chamber, he felt very relieved. Like a heavy burden had been lifted from him. He opened the door into his bedchamber and frowned. Lady Rhiannon sat in a chair by the window wearing a chocolate brown, crushed velvet gown trimmed in delicate, cream coloured French lace. Her right elbow rested upon the arm of the chair, her hand supporting her head as she leaned down.

"Oh, my angel. Forgive me, Rhiannon. I completely forgot to come back earlier." The Sheriff began as he walked toward her.

She looked up and to her left to greet him as he came toward her. She looked ashen and was glowing with the beads of perspiration upon her face.

"It's quite alright, my lord. Do not be offended but – I didn't really want to see you anyway." Rhiannon groaned.

"Oh, my angel – that's it then. We're postponing our meeting."

"No." She said. "I can do this, my love."

The Sheriff sighed and looked at her sternly. "It's been longer than two hours, Rhiannon. Looks to me like this is – "

"Going to be one of those _**special**_ days." She remarked, enunciating the adjective for it facetiously. "It's alright, my love. Trust me. I've felt much worse than this. I'm most pleased that I haven't wretched in one hour!"

The Sheriff shook his head and folded his arms. What he said next almost managed to make Rhiannon laugh and forget the current state she was in – until she realized he actually appeared serious.

"We're getting you fixed after this – I swear to Zeus! I'm speaking to Thomas about it. There must be _**something**_ that can be done! And _**if**_ we decide to grant that child of ours a sibling – we shall visit a bloody orphanage!" The Sheriff spat.

"Surely it cannot be like this _**every **_time! I should like to ask Harriet Busby about that. How many does she have? Is it six?" Rhiannon mused.

"Seven." The Sheriff replied absently. He put his hand upon her shoulder and crouched down in front of her. "My love, this meeting of ours can clearly wait." He said gently.

"Mortianna's batwing tea helped. I shall have more of it – it's just over there." She pointed to the table placed directly under the mirror on the wall, just ahead of her. "I was just taking a break from it because it was… making me feel rather giddy." Rhiannon blushed.

The Sheriff nodded. He knew there was something about the crone's cursed batwing tea that could make one feel drugged if they weren't careful about the quantity.

"Why don't you tell me your wishes and I'll tell Galfrey about the flowers we require? You stay here and rest and I shall meet with him personally." The Sheriff suggested.

"No. That would never do. I must be a lady and tough it out. I must be strong." Lady Rhiannon said.

"You are strong, my angel. You are a lady… my Lady Nottingham." The Sheriff smiled.

"You haven't called me that in awhile, my lord." Rhiannon said.

"Clearly, I have been remiss." He said as he reached up and smoothed her hair.

She smiled warmly as she fixed her green eyes upon his. He licked his lips surreptitiously. He could get lost her aqua green depths.

"I shall not disappoint you, my love. Do not worry. Now, when do we meet with him?" She asked.

"Probably not for another hour or more." The Sheriff said. "You're certain you are up for this?" He asked one more time.

"Absolutely." She smiled.

"Alright. Then there is something we should discuss beforehand." The Sheriff began.

"What is that?" Rhiannon asked as she took a few deep breaths. Curses! The nausea was returning!

"We have not chosen a date for our wedding, Rhiannon. It might be helpful if I could give Galfrey a time frame so he can obtain the poppies you so desire." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow quirked. "Poppies." He spat. "The symbol of eternal sleep…and death. And you wish to have them present at our wedding feast!" He shook his head, still surprised with her sudden fascination with the curious flower.

"The Romans would argue that to them – the poppy symbolizes the resurrection of life after death. Indeed the Romans use poppies as offerings for their dead." Rhiannon countered.

"How is it you know so much?" The Sheriff asked, astonished at her knowledge.

"I read a lot – thanks to the volumes available in your library." She grinned.

He sighed. "Fine. Poppies it is – God help us all. The day, Rhiannon. We must choose a date for our wedding." The Sheriff persisted.

"Oh. Aye, we never did choose the day." She agreed. She thought on it a moment, then smiled when a thought came to her. "How about Martinmas?" She asked.

"My birthday!" He spat. He shook his head. "You conniving little lass, you! You're determined to force me to celebrate it, aren't you?" The Sheriff smirked.

"Think of it, my prince. It is perfect! It is a time for feasting and merriment – right before the forty days of penance and reflection of Advent." Lady Rhiannon said.

"As if I care about Advent – "

She continued unfazed. "It marks the day where old contracts end. Like new beginnings! That shall be the day that we begin." Rhiannon smiled.

"Well, I suppose in one respect you're correct, because before you came along, my life didn't mean a damned thing." A beat. "My past doesn't mean a thing." The Sheriff sighed.

"November eleventh." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"Seriously, my angel, your intent is thoughtful but I should much prefer to celebrate our wedding anniversary on a different day!" The Sheriff spat. "It is bad enough it shall be in the same month!"

"November eleventh." Rhiannon repeated.

"A Tuesday!" He sneered. "Why not on a Friday?"

"It will not matter what day we marry, my lord. You are the Sheriff. You can get married any day of the week you damn well please. And you have the power to grant the merchants in the village a _**paid**_ day off that day, so that they might come and witness this _**once**_ in a lifetime, auspicious occasion of yours!" Rhiannon winked knowingly.

"Bah! They shall be granted a day off – some of them, but I shall not pay their lost wages!" The Sheriff spat.

"Yes, I know." Rhiannon grinned. "But now that I have your attention, think of this, my prince! The autumn harvest and the autumn slaughter has yielded plentiful results. Our wedding shall be a grand affair. I should say the people in the village shall eagerly anticipate such a grand occasion to mark their Martinmas celebrations!" She exclaimed in merriment.

"Why must you be so clever?" The Sheriff sighed. "Only _**you**_ could make me consider this, you do know that, don't you?" The Sheriff smirked as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Aye." She said innocently.

"Ah, so you _**did**_ know! My… sweet, manipulative, little angel. I always knew we were a perfect match!" He chortled.

"Does that mean I win? For I shall persist until I do!" Rhiannon smiled.

He sighed. "I yield… resignedly." The Sheriff said.

"Think of me as your birthday gift." Lady Rhiannon winked.

"A shame you're feeling so unwell, my lady. For if you keep talking like this, the response in me could serve _**you**_ rather well." The Sheriff grinned seductively as his left eyebrow shot north.

"Fine. Turn around and get me that cup of batwing tea then. For if you keep looking at me the way you are now, maybe we _**can**_ fit something in before we meet with… what did you say his name was again?" Rhiannon asked playfully.

He stood and carried out her request. He brought the cup to her and as he passed it to her he spoke. "Who cares? Drink, my love." The Sheriff smirked.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

And it was just over an hour later when the Sheriff and his lady strolled toward the Council Quarters to meet with Galfrey. The Sheriff had been notified by his sentry that the man had arrived. As they neared the meeting room he saw his Lieutenant and his Knight walking toward them. Both of his men frowned.

"I take it – that was a no at the inn?" The Sheriff rolled his eyes when he saw their expressions.

"Aye, cousin. The cursed innkeeper was truthful – a miracle, I'm sure!" Gisborne spat. He sighed. "There was no sign of him." He added.

"Nor his henchman." Mordrid piped up.

"I shall speak to you two later about our plans then." The Sheriff nodded in dismissal.

They nodded and continued on their way.

"What plans was that you were referring to?" Rhiannon asked.

"Later." The Sheriff said as he put his hand on the door handle.

"What are you up to?" She asked with her eyebrow quirked.

"I will tell you all about it later, my angel. Perhaps while we dine. Let us meet with Galfrey first. Zeus knows how much time he shall need to get you the cursed poppies!"

"Oh, splendid." Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "You _**would**_ have to go and mention food to me again, George!" She admonished as her palm flew up to cover her mouth.

The Sheriff sighed and shook his head. "Batwing tea. Batwing tea. There. Does that make you feel better?" He asked. "It worked on you just recently." He teased.

She felt too ill just then to even blush. "I should have brought some in a cursed flask!" Rhiannon spat.

"I'll meet with him, Rhiannon. Go back to the bedchamber if you have the strength to, or else take a walk outside, my angel. The air shall do you some good." He suggested.

"I shall be fine, my lord, if you would stop talking about food and dining!"

"Come then." He said as he led her inside.

Galfrey was a tall, pleasant appearing, middle aged man with curly, auburn hair and kind hazel eyes that twinkled when he smiled. He stood by the window waiting for the Sheriff. A guard waited in the room along with him. The Sheriff dismissed the guard and he and his lady walked toward the man.

"Galfrey! Thank you for coming, friend. I would like you to meet my soon to be bride." The Sheriff said as he brought Rhiannon forward to meet him.

"My lord." Galfrey said as he made obeisance to his Sheriff. He looked to Rhiannon and smiled. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, milady. I am Galfredus Gateron of Nettlestone, but those who know me well call me Galfrey." He quickly explained. He suddenly grinned. "Except for my comedic elder brother who likes to call me Fred." He added with a chuckle.

"That's a good one!" The Sheriff chortled. "Aye, I must remember that!"

"Indeed. I am Lady Rhiannon of the county of York." Rhiannon nodded.

"That is the reason you were summoned. My lady and I wish to hire you to furnish the blooms for our wedding feast." The Sheriff smiled.

"It would be an honour, my Lord Sheriff." Galfrey smiled. "And when is this grand affair to be, milord?"

"November eleventh!" Lady Rhiannon chimed in suddenly and sweetly. She realized if she didn't say anything her betrothed might offer him another date – just to trick her.

The Sheriff folded his arms and frowned as he regarded her. _Goddamn the woman! She knows me too well! How did she know? I was going to tell him November seventh! A Friday – as it should be!_ He shook his head and sighed and cast her a scornful look.

Rhiannon grinned up at him triumphantly.

"Will that be enough time for you?" The Sheriff asked the man.

"Aye, milord. Although, it may depend upon which blooms you desire, or do either of you have a preference?" Galfrey asked.

The Sheriff grinned at the florist and extended both of his hands out toward his lady beside him, as if he were presenting her to him.

She spoke up, perfectly on cue. "I wish for white roses – plenty of them. For they hold special meaning to me where my betrothed is concerned. And I would especially desire white gardenias… and poppies." Lady Rhiannon stated firmly.

"I see." Galfrey mused as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"_**Now**_ do you have enough time?" The Sheriff asked the florist with his eyebrow quirked.

"Hmm. I'm not all that certain." Galfey muttered.

"Told you there would be a problem with the damned poppies!" The Sheriff spat as he addressed his lady.

"The poppies shall not be a problem, milord." Galfrey spoke up.

The Sheriff shook his head. "But – they only grow in places in the Orient, and the Chola and Chera kingdoms do they not?" The Sheriff asked.

"Aye. You are correct, milord. But they are also found growing in parts of Gloucestershire, Derbyshire, and Norfolk. I can get you the poppies – easily. Aye, I have a variety of colours of them available in my greenhouse right this very moment!" Galfrey smiled.

"How many different colours are there?" Rhiannon asked.

"You'd be surprised, milady. They can be white, yellow, red, orange, pink…why, even blue!" He exclaimed.

Rhiannon smiled.

"So, Galfrey, what _**is**_ going to be the problem then?" The Sheriff asked curiously.

"The gardenias." Galfrey answered quickly and matter of factly.

"I was afraid you'd say that." Rhiannon muttered.

"Indeed. Those are going to a bitch to get a hold of." Galfrey lamented shaking his head.

"Well, I know those flowers are found in parts of the Mali and Moorish empires, but can they not be found a little closer to home?" The Sheriff asked Galfrey.

"No, milord. Our climate would never work. They are exotic and grow in very warm climates. They are found in the kingdoms you mentioned and one other – in a land even farther away than that! I'm told it is paradise there. The Tu'i Tonga empire." Galfrey explained. He sighed. "I'd need a couple of months and a ship that could fly to obtain those blooms for you!" Galfrey exclaimed.

The Sheriff turned to Rhiannon. "My lady, how is it that you're familiar with them? Surely you have never traveled to the Mali or Moorish empires? And certainly not this Tu'i Tonga place!" The Sheriff asked her curiously.

"Father had a comrade who was an explorer. He brought gardenia seeds and roots back with him from the Mali empire and figured out how to grow them in his own greenhouse." Rhiannon explained. "They were exquisite – the purest flower I'd ever seen. A fragrance so sweet and pleasing it cannot be described, but they were delicate. I touched a bloom once and soon after the petals turned brown." She said.

"Aye. They will do that, milady." Galfrey said. "A poor choice if ye were planning to decorate your hair with them. One touch by curious guests who'd never beheld their beauty before, and your headpiece would have been ruined!"

"Aye. And that is why I had another choice for that." A beat. "But we shan't tell _**him**_ what that is." Rhiannon said to the florist as she nodded toward the Sheriff.

"Why don't I just leave you to it then?" The Sheriff suggested. He looked to Galfrey. "You see… clearly, I don't have a say." He winked.

"That would be fine, milord." Galfrey nodded.

The Sheriff turned to Rhiannon. "Are you sure you're up for this, my angel?" He asked her softly.

"Yes, my prince. Go. I won't be long." She whispered.

"I'll wait for you in my office, my angel. Get the sentry outside of the door if you need him – for anything. Or better yet, I shall have him stay with you in here while you speak to the florist." The Sheriff said.

"Can you not trust anyone, my lord? I shall be fine! Go." She nodded.

The Sheriff turned back to face her before he exited the Council Quarters. "Uhm… not too many poppies, alright, my angel? We don't want our guests falling asleep at this… _**Martinmas**_ celebration!" He smirked.

**A/N - Yeah, imagine - an author's note from me! For a long time I didn't want to say anything as it's hard to say much without spoiling the story, but here I am. We're nearing the end of this tale now, but there is still some surprises in store. Is the Sheriff correct about his perception of danger to his Lady Rhiannon, as was discussed in Chapter 66? Will Homely Hamon get her, or will something happen with this pregnancy of hers? Or...both? The answer to that mystery will be revealed soon. What is Mistress Celestria up to? Well, we can't have everything all glorious and rosy in Nottingham, can we? Speaking of courtesans, I must mention, after proofreading for errors I was reminded to say this. When I mentioned the young blond consort, I toyed a few minutes with the age I would say the Sheriff said she looked to be. (The purpose of mentioning that was that the Sheriff is now beginning to look at things with new eyes, and in fatherly terms. *wink*). In fact, maidens often married back then before the age of fifteen, so in fact, she would not have been considered to be a child at fifteen years of age. But, because we've come a long way since, I could not in good conscience say that she appeared to be younger than that, even though it would work for that time. The idea of it, even though it would be more believable if we could enter a portal and travel back to this time, just gave me the creeps too much to be rather frank about it! **

**Thank you to the followers of this story that has become dear to my heart. I hope you enjoy the remainder of our little journey! **

**~*Donna*~  
**


	13. Chapter 68

A few hours past dawn on Saturday morning, Nottingham was entering the private chamber to check on his lady. She was feeling quite unwell earlier and he promised he would return to her soon. She was dressed now in a rust coloured, tartan wool gown, but she lay supine upon the bed with her forearm resting against her forehead. She looked rather pallid of complexion again.

"My lady Rhiannon? Are you alright?" The Sheriff asked with a look of concern upon his face as he swiftly went to her.

"It's just the usual, my love." Rhiannon replied. "At least, I think so." She muttered.

When he neared the bed his eyes widened as he took in the sight of her. He shook his head. There were beads of perspiration on her face and her décolleté. Her hair was damp, and he thought her lips appeared to be quite pale as well. She almost looked like death! He shook his head again and closed his eyes. As far as Nottingham was concerned it was a bleeding miracle that he was even here. It was a miracle that _**any**_ maiden lived through carrying and delivering a child! He was surprised that it wasn't he who killed his mother – when he was birthed from her! _I swear she shall drive me mad until that child of ours if safely delivered from her!_

Lady Rhiannon was very perceptive. She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. He appeared white again! Why, he almost looked worse than she did – last she checked in the mirror.

"Don't worry, George. I'm not dying. I am only with child. It's supposed to be as natural to a lady as breathing – I shouldn't be surprised it's not coming naturally to me." She sighed.

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "What are you saying, my angel?" He asked in confusion. He sat upon the bed beside her.

"I don't know, my love. It's just… I think there's something wrong." Lady Rhiannon said slowly. She hesitated to say it because saying the words to her was like an admission that there really _**was**_ something wrong.

"My lady?" The Sheriff asked with his eyes widened in fear. And it was then he realized he already loved this child he did not know yet.

"It's just this feeling I have, George. I'm frightened for this child but I do not know why?" Rhiannon exclaimed. She sat up slowly and began breathing at a faster rate than normal.

The Sheriff placed his left arm around her and held her to him. She buried her face into his shoulder and took deep breaths – this time to stay the nausea, which occurred the moment she became upright.

"I'm sending for Lady Margaret today, my love. I would feel better if she examined you, but in the meantime Thomas will see you." The Sheriff announced matter of factly.

"No." Rhiannon said.

"My love, forgive me, but you look terrible!" The Sheriff exclaimed. He turned to face her and placed his hands gently upon her face. "Rhiannon, you cannot go on like this! There must be something he can recommend? If you keep on like this you shall have no strength left in your body to –" He stopped himself then. The Sheriff shook his head. _I'm making this worse! Damn it! I'm going to scare her!_

"To deliver the child, you mean?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes." The Sheriff said softly, his eyes downcast. Slowly he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. "I don't want to lose you, beautiful lady. You know, my own mother died this way." Nottingham sighed.

"You've never told me of your mother?" Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"I never knew her, my angel, though I wish I had. I heard stories of my parents through their friends. My physician was a close friend to my father. It is people like him who keep my parents alive with their tales. Unfortunately however, I have nothing to say." The Sheriff said quietly.

"How old were you when she died?" Rhiannon asked. "When you told me your story a few months ago when we were on our way back here, you kind of skipped over all of that." She added with a knowing smirk.

"Yes, well, there wasn't much to say. I hate talking about that part of my life, truth be told." The Sheriff said with a sigh. He cleared his throat and continued. "My mother died in childbirth when I was a year old. My brother died too. I have absolutely no memory of her whatsoever. Not even as just a presence around me. I'm told she was very loving to my father and I. She was a great lady, and apparently a great mother. Thomas tells me she doted on me." He smiled wistfully.

"I'm sure she did." Rhiannon smiled.

"Sometimes I wish I could talk to her." The Sheriff admitted. This was the first time in his life he ever admitted this fact about him to anyone.

"Why don't you?" Rhiannon asked nonchalantly.

The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north as he looked at her strangely. "Well, I would, but the lady is dead." He remarked dryly.

"I do believe my brother had a point on Thursday night when he was speaking of Eddie. Sometimes I used to visit father's grave and… talk to him." Rhiannon said, her eyes downcast.

"About what?" The Sheriff asked pointedly.

"Anything. Usually matters requiring guidance. Sometimes it would make me feel better." She said.

"I went to my parents' graves once." The Sheriff said.

"Oh? When was that?" Lady Rhiannon asked.

"It was awhile ago. I was ten." The Sheriff smiled impishly.

"I see. Well, it can never hurt." She smiled.

"Right. Well, do not digress, my love – any further than you just did." He said with his eyebrow quirked. "This is not about my mother – or any of the other dead people we know. We were discussing you and our child." The Sheriff said.

"Yes." She murmured as she gazed deeply into his amber hazel eyes.

"If I must keep you locked in here until our child is safely delivered from you, and I'm assured both of you are well – I will if it will mean no harm shall come to you. I'm sure Thomas will agree with me – you should be resting as much as possible." He said firmly.

"I don't feel like doing much of anything else just now." Lady Rhiannon frowned.

"Now I am loathed to tell you what I came here to tell you." The Sheriff sighed.

"What is that?" She asked.

"Gis and I and one of my knights were going to head to Portsmouth tomorrow. We need to make an arrest of someone there. I'm going to talk to Guy about it and tell him we'll leave on Monday instead. I cannot leave you like this." The Sheriff explained.

"My love, I shall be fine. If it's important, you must go." Rhiannon smiled weakly. She reached up and caressed his cheek and let her fingertips trail to his jaw, touching his soft black beard, and then she lightly touched his lips.

Nottingham sighed and took her hand. He kissed her fingertip and then continued. "My dearest heart – there is _**nothing**_ in the world to me as important as you." The Sheriff smiled softly. _And our son…and the other little one coming._ He caressed her cheek. Her skin was very damp to touch. He managed to conceal his alarm.

"Oh, George!" She whispered as she held unto him fast.

"Do not worry, my angel. I will see to it that you and our little one coming get the best of care and attention." He smiled as he smoothed her silky, sable tresses.

"You _**are**_ happy about the baby." She sighed happily as she looked up at him, her cheek still nestled against his shoulder.

"Of course I am, my angel! It is our little baby. It shall be perfect. Look at us! Could he or she ask for better parents?" The Sheriff winked at her. "I shall spoil our child rotten!"

Lady Rhiannon began to giggle. "Don't make me laugh too much, George. That doublet of yours is quite magnificent. I would hate to ruin it." Rhiannon sighed.

"My lady?" He asked, bewildered.

"The nausea is gone for now, but it will return." She said as she rolled her eyes.

The Sheriff shook his head and sighed. He wished he could do something to help her through this.

Just then there was a tapping on the door of the den.

"Wait here, my angel. I shall see what this is about." The Sheriff said. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She looked up at him and smiled then he went to answer the door.

He was somewhat surprised when he opened it to see Lady Gisborne standing there before him along with Lady Wordsworth. Both were dressed as if they were heading out, each had their capes on over their gowns.

"Good day, brother in law!" Lady Meridwyn smiled gaily. "Don't you look dashing? Too bad we're not here to see you!" She giggled.

"Yes." The Sheriff muttered as his eyebrow shot north.

"Yes, soon to be brother in law!" Isabelle smiled. She looked over his shoulder into the den behind him, standing up on her toes. "Where are you hiding my sister in law? We are here to relieve you of her, milord Sheriff." She said with a curtsy.

"Oh, for God's sake, Isabelle! No need to be so formal with him!" Lady Meridwyn rolled her eyes. "He just _**looks**_ menacing." She added. She looked up to the Sheriff just then. "Forgive me." She said absently to him before she continued speaking with Isabelle. "Inside all of that leather lies a real pussycat!" She grinned.

The Sheriff quirked his eyebrow again at her. Lady Meridwyn pushed him aside nonchalantly and kept her gaze upon Isabelle as they let themselves into the chamber. The Sheriff shook his head and closed the door.

"Make yourselves at home." He commented dryly.

They continued to ignore him.

"Guy is like that too. Must be some familial trait. They like to act tough and scare everyone in the village half to death, but they're just regular, ordinary men." Meridwyn laughed. "It's all about opportunity. They could have easily ended up peasants if not for what was handed to them as a birthright."

"Hey!" The Sheriff admonished.

"Relax, milord. I'm just teasing. My, my, my. Aren't you jumpy this day? You better get used to all of us women, George. For all you know, Rhiannon might give you a daughter!" Meridwyn laughed.

"I'm quite prepared for that since there's a fifty percent chance of it." The Sheriff sighed, although he was starting to feel a cursed, pounding headache coming on. "And Rhiannon doesn't know that her sister in law knows this, by the way." He added sternly.

Lady Meridwyn sighed and rolled her eyes. "Why you must keep it a secret that you told them is beyond me." She commented.

Lady Isabelle looked up and blushed. "I uh… let it slip, but it was alright because Lady Meridwyn knew of your child coming too." She said innocently.

"Right." The Sheriff sighed.

"You know, if you two talked every once in a awhile, instead of what you're obviously doing instead, you may quarrel less." Lady Meridwyn added, rolling her eyes.

"My lady and I do several things together, and we speak of a great many things!" The Sheriff huffed. "Just heed my words, Lady Meridwyn – Rhiannon does _**not**_ know I told her brother and Lady Isabelle of our child on the way."

"Very well, milord." Lady Meridwyn nodded.

The doors of the private chamber opened just then and Rhiannon stood there before them.

"There you are!" Lady Meridwyn smiled. She nodded to Isabelle then and the two ladies walked toward her. "We're going into the village, my dear. I thought we could show Isabelle around since she'll be living in Nottingham. Come, let's – " Meridwyn stopped suddenly when she advanced closer and took in the grave appearance of her friend.

"Rhiannon!" Meridwyn gasped.

Isabelle went to the other side of her and put her arm around her sister in law. "Oh, my! Rhiannon, you're as pale as a ghost, my dear!" Isabelle cried.

"I'm alright, my dear sisters. Do not worry." Rhiannon smiled up at them. "I do not feel up to it this day, however. Do you mind showing Isabelle around without me, Meridwyn?" She asked of her friend.

"Of course not, dearest!" Meridwyn smiled as she leaned in and kissed Rhiannon's forehead.

"Maybe we shouldn't, Meridwyn." Isabelle said with a frown. "Perhaps we could assist in some way?" She mused as she looked to the Sheriff.

"I'm sending for my physician, and the midwife, Lady Margaret." The Sheriff said.

"Might I have some brandy, my lord? Perhaps it shall make me feel better?" Rhiannon asked.

"Of course, my angel. Anything you desire." The Sheriff smiled. He looked to his guests. "Might I offer you lovely ladies some too?" He asked them.

"No, milord. I prefer to stay away from spirits until this child of mine is born." Meridwyn said.

Isabelle shook her head. "It's too early for me, milord Sheriff." She smiled.

The Sheriff nodded and went to the table where the decanter of the tincture of rapture was. He began to pour a measure into a shiny golden goblet for his lady.

"Forgive me, ladies. Perhaps I shall feel better later and we can visit then? Perhaps over a cup of tea?" Lady Rhiannon said.

"Do not think of it, Rhiannon. We shall have plenty of time to visit." Lady Isabelle smiled as she pushed a golden tendril from her bonny blue eyes.

The Sheriff went to his lady and gave her the goblet. She took it from him and began to sip the brandy. It warmed her for a moment – and then she felt it. Her eyes widened and she held her breath. She reached behind her and put her hand on the mantle of the fireplace to steady her.

"My lady?" The Sheriff said as he narrowed his eyes upon her curiously.

Ladies Isabelle and Meridwyn regarded her with looks of alarm on both of their faces.

"I'm fine, it's just – " Rhiannon stopped when the sudden, sharp pain occurred again deep in her belly. "Oh!" She cried out as she grabbed onto her abdomen and held it and gasped. The goblet of brandy fell from her hand and landed on the floor.

"Rhiannon! What is it?" The Sheriff asked as he went to her and put his hands upon her shoulders.

Rhiannon looked downcast. "I do not know." Rhiannon said shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. And then the pain happened again. It was sudden, white hot, and sharp. It took her breath away. She bent over holding her abdomen and gasped. She looked up at the Sheriff, her eyes widened in horror. "The baby! George! It's too soon! No!" She shrieked, suddenly oblivious to her sister in law standing there who did not yet know she was with child… or so she thought.

"My angel, do not worry." The Sheriff soothed as he held her to him. He looked to Meridwyn. "Go outside of the door and tell the sentry to summon my physician, then go and get me Gisborne!" He ordered.

"Very well, milord." Meridwyn nodded and she went to the door to carry out the task.

The Sheriff looked to Lady Isabelle. He pointed to the heavy oak door on the far side of the den. "Lady Isabelle, go through that door and down the winding steps. You will find an old crone down there. Her name is Mortianna. You are to tell her that her master requests her presence in my bedchamber at once!" The Sheriff stated firmly.

Lady Isabelle nodded. "Of course, milord." She said and went on her way.

"George! I'm frightened!" Rhiannon gasped and then she held her breath again as another sharp pain occurred.

"Breathe, Rhiannon." The Sheriff said.

He lifted her into his arms and swiftly carried her through the double doors into his bedchamber. She leaned her head into his shoulder and stifled her tears in between pains. He laid her gently upon the bed. Rhiannon went immediately to her side and curled into a fetal position, her knees drawn up to her guarding her. She stared vacantly toward the door, focusing on her breathing and trying to hold onto her baby.

The Sheriff sat on the bed beside her and leaned down to her, stroking her hair, a great look of concern spreading across his face.

"George?" Rhiannon looked up at him, tears streaming down her face.

"What is it, my angel?" He asked softly.

"Forgive me!" She gasped as she drew her knees up further when another sharp pain took her breath away.

"Shh. Don't speak, my love. It will be alright." He soothed, though he had no idea if it would be alright or not. He was fearful as well, but determined not to let her know it.

"No. There's something wrong! I mustn't lose this baby! George!" She cried. She leaned up on her elbow and grabbed his doublet with her free hand and pulled him to her, and began to weep upon his chest.

"Oh, my lady, do not cry." The Sheriff whispered softly as he held her close to him.

"Oh, George. I love you, and I love our child! This cannot be happening!" Rhiannon exclaimed in fear.

"I know, beautiful. Do not think on this a moment longer. You must stay focused, my angel." The Sheriff encouraged her. He pulled away from her and held her face in his hands.

She closed her eyes and grimaced when another sharp pain took a hold of her and stole her breath.

"Breathe, my Lady Nottingham. Come on, breathe!" He ordered her.

She opened her eyes and looked deeply into his eyes, and she held her breath no more.

"Stay with me, lady. Stay focused." The Sheriff commanded her.

"Oh, my love, do not leave me!" Lady Rhiannon implored him.

"Never!" He said firmly.

Just then Lady Isabelle returned to the chamber with Mortianna.

"My lord, what is the matter with the lady?" Mortianna asked as she glided into the chamber, her black and silver robes rustling along the marble floor.

"Ahh!" Lady Rhiannon cried out as she grabbed onto the Sheriff's knee and practically separated his kneecap when she felt a stabbing pain.

The Sheriff grimaced and held his breath just then. "My lady…" He breathed. "That was my knee!" He gasped. _No wonder men don't stick around when their ladies give birth. There's too much risk of injury!_

Mortianna quirked her eyebrow curiously. The Sheriff looked up at her. "My lady is with child, Mortianna, but there is something wrong." The Sheriff announced.

Mortianna nodded and gestured for him to move from the bed. He arose and went to stand beside Lady Isabelle. Mortianna went to the bedside and leaned down to Lady Rhiannon.

"My child, when did this pain commence?" Mortianna asked the Sheriff's lady.

"Just a few moments ago. Just before you were summoned." She answered weakly.

"Is there bleeding present?" The witch asked matter of factly, not caring that the Sheriff was standing in their presence.

"No. There is no blood." Rhiannon stated breathlessly as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and gasped again.

"That is good, my child. A very good sign indeed. Now, do not fret." Mortianna said calmly.

"How can I not fret? Just because I'm not bleeding now doesn't mean I won't? Pain like this cannot be normal, Mortianna!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Women have been doing it for centuries, my child. You shall not be the first." The witch stated.

"Not now! It cannot be now! The child is not due until the spring!" Rhiannon cried. "George!" She cried as she looked to her betrothed.

"My lady..." The Sheriff murmured. He knew not what to say. He stood frozen a moment, then started to move toward her. Lady Isabelle put a hand on his arm to stay him and nodded. He smiled weakly at her and his eyes moved downcast.

"Not every lady can have an easy time of it, my dear. It doesn't mean you shall lose this child today. Not if you follow instructions." Mortianna said vaguely.

Rhiannon was puzzled but unable to respond when another pain took her breath away.

The Sheriff looked over at Lady Isabelle, a grave look of concern upon his face. Isabelle smiled reassuringly at him, then she moved forward to speak with the witch.

"What can I do to help her, Mortianna?" Isabelle asked.

"Go down to my apothecary. There's a small cauldron brewing on the fire. You shall find a ladle and a stoneware cup near to it. Ladle some of the liquid I have brewing in the cauldron into the cup and bring it here." Mortianna said.

"Very well." Isabelle replied and went on her way.

There were footsteps coming from the den. The Sheriff turned to the door. Lady Meridwyn had returned with her husband, Sir Guy of Gisborne.

"George? What's going on?" Gisborne asked as he stood in the doorway with his arms folded, looking curiously upon the Sheriff's lady being tended to by Mortianna.

The Sheriff went toward him and Lady Meridwyn walked to the bedside to assist Mortianna. The Sheriff led Gisborne out into the den so they could speak privately.

"We're not leaving tomorrow after all." The Sheriff suddenly announced. "Perhaps Monday, but now I cannot be certain. I cannot leave Rhiannon now." He said gravely.

"What's wrong with her, cousin?" Guy asked.

"I do not know. She thinks there's something wrong with the baby. I'm inclined to believe her. She looks like death and she's having intermittent pain now. It's coming a little too often for my liking." The Sheriff said, shaking his head. Then his jaw flew agape and his eyes widened. "Dear Zeus, Gis! She's behaving almost as if she were in labour! I'm guessing that's how they act when they're about to deliver a child? She nearly ripped my knee apart with her bare hand!" He exclaimed, incredulous.

"Oh, my!" Gisborne shuddered. "Where is Thomas?" He asked pointedly.

"You know him – he's always slow to arrive." The Sheriff huffed. "And that is the reason I summoned for you. I need you to go to your manor and summon Lady Margaret for me." The Sheriff said.

"But – who shall take care of your son?" Guy asked.

The Sheriff thought about it a moment as he looked downcast. _Luke? No. The child needs a woman's touch. But whom?_ And then it came to him.

"Take Lady Isabelle with you. She cared for my son for three months and it seems my son did alright by his aunt and uncle. Yes. Take her with you. It will be good for my son and probably good for her as well." The Sheriff suggested.

"Alright. Shall I send word to Robert?" Guy asked.

"Yes. Send the page to the armoury to tell him." The Sheriff said. "I'm sure he won't mind. He cares for Rhiannon, and his nephew it turns out."

"Very well. It shall be done." Gisborne nodded. "Tell my lovely wife I shall return soon." He added.

The Sheriff nodded. Just then Lady Isabelle came from the door that led into Mortianna's lair. The Sheriff went to her and took the cup of batwing tea from her. She eyed him curiously as he did so.

"I have a task for you, milady Isabelle." The Sheriff said to her.

"What is that, milord? Do you wish me to summon Robert?" She asked.

"My page is going to speak with him. I am requesting you accompany my cousin to his manor. As you know, that's where my son is staying until I… tell my lady about him." The Sheriff sighed. He cleared his throat. "My son is in the care of a midwife. She's the only one I trust with the responsibility, but I need her here to see to my lovely bride to be. I'm asking you to care for my son in her absence. Would you be so kind, milady?" The Sheriff implored her.

"Yes, milord Sheriff. I shall be pleased to care for him in the interim." Isabelle smiled.

"I am grateful." The Sheriff nodded.

"Come, milady Isabelle." Gisborne said in his raw, gravelly voice as he offered Lady Isabelle his arm. "We must make haste so I can bring the midwife here quickly." He said.

She took his arm willingly and they went on their way.

* * *

Three hours later the Sheriff was speaking with Thomas Crumwell in the den. The tall, silver haired physician had just spent the last hour with Lady Rhiannon, examining her and beginning her treatment. Lady Meridwyn and Mortianna were still tending to Lady Rhiannon in the bedchamber.

"I need you to be frank with me, milord. Is this Lady Rhiannon's first child?" Thomas asked as he squinted his blue eyes.

The Sheriff sighed and looked downcast. His jaw was clenched.

"George?" Thomas said sharply. He rarely used the Sheriff's given name but he decided this was one of those moments that deemed it necessary.

"No. We have a son who is five months old." The Sheriff said quietly.

Thomas eyed him curiously.

"There is a long drawn out tale to go with it, Thomas, and I cannot explain why she knows not of her own child, but she doesn't. I shall deal with it! Now, why is this very personal information necessary for you to know?" The Sheriff demanded with his eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Because whatever happened then could affect what happens now." Thomas answered without hesitation.

"I don't understand?" The Sheriff asked, shaking his head.

"Did she have any difficulties with her labour?" Thomas asked.

The Sheriff exhaled an audible sigh. He hated having to explain this to anyone. "My lady was held captive by the killer who murdered twenty nine maidens in all, in this and two other counties. She was the only one spared – because of my son. Thus, she was alone when she delivered my son. No one was witness to it, though I can tell you she had a time afterward." The Sheriff said. He only went to the bother of explaining this in hopes this information would serve his lady and his child well.

"What happened afterward?" Thomas pressed.

"I found her in the place she was held captive in hours later. She was bleeding profusely – I knew not why then, and it continued for days." The Sheriff explained. He shuddered as he recalled the horrible sight of his lovely lady, as white as the driven snow, her lips were lavender in colour, laying on that ghastly blood soaked bed – near death!

"Were you told the cause of it?" Thomas asked.

"Lady Margaret offered an explanation for it – something to do with the afterbirth, whatever that is. I don't remember exactly what she said now." The Sheriff said. He shuddered. "I'd rather not remember it, to be quite frank." He added as his eyebrow shot north.

"Good. Then I shall speak with her when she arrives." Thomas nodded.

"What shall we do for my lady in the meantime?" The Sheriff asked.

"Her labour has stopped." Thomas said reassuringly.

"What! Labour?" The Sheriff exclaimed, his jaw flew agape and he felt the colour leave him.

Just then Guy of Gisborne opened the door and entered the room with Lady Margaret.

"My lord Sheriff, Sir Gisborne tells me the lady is in trouble." Lady Margaret said as she came toward them.

"Yes, Lady Margaret. My Rhiannon is two months into carrying our second child – a rather unexpected turn of events." The Sheriff sighed. "She appeared in danger of losing… our –" He stopped and looked downcast. He couldn't say the words.

"I stopped her labour." Thomas said to the midwife.

"How?" Lady Margaret asked, her eyebrow quirked curiously.

"She is having a goblet of wine administered every three to four hours until such time as I'm satisfied to discontinue the treatment. I have found that spirits can do much to slow the process when it's too soon for a child's delivery. Wine seems to work best for most of my charges." The physician explained.

"Interesting." Lady Margaret mused.

Gisborne stood staring into the fire, trying desperately to ignore them. He felt sick just then.

"She was… in labour." The Sheriff whispered. He looked up at Thomas in awe. "Yet, you stopped it?" He asked, incredulous.

"I have tricks up my sleeve to induce labour too, milord." Thomas smiled.

The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north as he regarded the medicus curiously.

"Bah! Pepper! I know all about it! I always ask my charges to sniff of it every few hours, a week or two past due. Don't want those infants left too long, Master Crumwell. 'Tis a danger to both mother and child if the wee ones be left in too long!" Lady Margaret stated firmly, folding her arms.

"Oh, you're absolutely right, milady Margaret!" Thomas agreed, nodding affirmatively.

The Sheriff realized then that every time he was witness to their banter – he always felt nausea come over him. He suddenly took note of his cousin who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded. His eyes were closed and he looked ashen.

"Gis?" The Sheriff asked, as his eyebrow shot north.

Guy opened his eyes and looked to the physician and the midwife. "Alright, well, _**that**_ was a little too much information." Gisborne sighed.

"Don't think you'll be getting out of it when _**your**_ child comes if I have anything to say about it!" Lady Margaret admonished.

"My job shall be to leave for the tavern until I am summoned." Guy stated.

The Sheriff smiled weakly. If he weren't so worried for his lady he would have laughed at that.

"If I am in attendance to Lady Meridwyn, you shall stay nearby in case you're needed!" Lady Margaret said. "Don't worry, you won't be in the chamber. God help me – you'd get on my nerves!" She rolled her eyes.

"Lady Margaret, his lordship tells me you examined the lady after the delivery of her first child." Thomas began.

"That is correct. She was unconscious for days and days, and there was quite an unusual amount of bleeding. She developed fever and I bled her, which was successful. I believed that her afterbirth came away too soon. I'm sure that is what caused the great amount of bleeding." Lady Margaret explained.

Guy dropped his head down and put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. He wished his beautiful wife was not with child at the moment. He was going to worry too much of the dangers for her now.

"If you're right in your diagnosis then that would support why she went into labour today." Thomas said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He looked to the Sheriff. "Had she been doing anything strenuous?" He asked.

The Sheriff froze a moment when he thought of ravishing her the night before. He swallowed. _Dear Zeus! Did __**I**__ do this?_

"No." The Sheriff said, unblinking. "She woke up feeling very weak, and she was standing in this room speaking with me, Lady Isabelle, and my cousin's wife when she suddenly became ill." The Sheriff said.

"Hmm. Well that's even more concerning. She was doing nothing? She must stay in bed a few days until we're certain she won't have another episode." Thomas said firmly, folding his arms.

"I best stay with her. She'll never agree to that!" The Sheriff huffed.

"Oh, she will, milord. Do not fear. She told me her greatest concern at the moment is losing this child. She will follow any advice I give to her, I believe." The physician smiled.

The Sheriff sighed. "I must go to her. What are they doing to her?" He asked as he looked back toward the doorway leading into his bedchamber. Once again he ordered the doors be left open whenever possible.

"Mortianna is offering the wine and I believe your sister in law is sponging her brow." Thomas said.

"They're going to drive her mad! She loathes being fussed over!" The Sheriff stated emphatically.

"It is for her own good, milord." Thomas explained.

"What do you need from me?" Lady Margaret asked.

"Can you stay nearby in case I need you?" The Sheriff asked. "I know it would make Rhiannon feel better. She keeps asking for you." He said.

"I will, milord Sheriff, but what of your son?" Lady Margaret asked.

"I shall ask Lady Isabelle to do it. I can grant Robert leave from the armoury for a day or two if she'd feel more comfortable having him there with her. I don't see any other way around this." The Sheriff explained. "You and Lady Isabelle are the only ladies I know of who know of my child's existence, except for the witch - who doesn't count because she must stay here." He added as his eyebrow shot north knowingly.

Lady Margaret quirked her eyebrow, curiously.

"My future sister in law has already proven herself capable of caring for my child." The Sheriff stated.

"Alright, I will stay. Can you assign my James to guard my chamber some of the time? Perhaps that way I might see him?" The midwife asked with a knowing look on her face.

"Alright, point taken!" The Sheriff huffed. He shook his head and sighed. "Bear with me, madam. This will not continue for much longer."

"Let us hope." Lady Margaret sighed. "Your son has started teething now, milord Sheriff. A few weeks ago he rolled over by himself, and that was when he started to be able to lift his head. Your lady is missing out on all of his milestones. So are you, it would seem!"

"My son – he can lift his head now?" The Sheriff asked as a smile spread across his face.

"He's growing teeth too apparently, cousin! How marvelous!" Gisborne chuckled.

"You're right, milady Margaret. I shall tell my lady, but now is _**not**_ the time. Just go and look at her! My God, she looks like death warmed over!" Nottingham exclaimed. "I am pleased you are sharing my son's important firsts with me, but I need you to cease meddling!" The Sheriff huffed.

"As you wish, milord." Lady Margaret nodded. She went toward the private chamber carrying her bag of implements with her.

"I agree that waiting a time is best, milord. If you tell her of your son now, the worry of it may cause her to go into labour again." Thomas explained.

"She must know sometime. Do not tell me to wait until spring!" The Sheriff snapped. "My son needs his mother!"

"You're right, milord, but I would advise waiting a few more days to tell her." Thomas said firmly.

"If you think it is best." The Sheriff sighed. "I wasn't thinking of it just now anyway." He nodded to the physician and his Lieutenant and proceeded into the bedchamber.

He dismissed Lady Meridwyn and Mortianna from the room. Lady Margaret was there at the bedside.

"So that's it then? I should just rest?" Lady Rhiannon asked the midwife. She was resting now in her white gauzy shift, nestled in the Sheriff's silk linens, reclined against several overstuffed, down pillows.

The Sheriff caught his breath. She was still as white as the driven snow, yet she looked a vision to him.

"Indeed milady. Just for a few days. The physician will decide when you can gradually increase your activities." Lady Margaret said.

The Sheriff went over to the far side of the bed to give the midwife her space, and sat beside his lady upon the bed. Lady Rhiannon looked to her left and smiled at him. She grasped his hand and squeezed it tightly. She looked back to the midwife.

"So, you cannot be in charge of my care?" Lady Rhiannon asked.

"As long as you get through this period without complications, I can attend the birth in the spring. Until that time, I shall work with him as a team." Lady Margaret explained. "Ye have already proven there is risk to you and your child. The matter dictates we both manage you at the moment."

"I see." Lady Rhiannon said.

"How long ago was your last pain?" Lady Margaret asked.

"At least an hour now, maybe more." Lady Rhiannon replied.

"That is good, milady. I shall leave you with your betrothed but I won't be gone long. And if you should feel another pain or experience bleeding - god forbid, you are to summon for me or Master Crumwell at once!" Lady Margaret said firmly. She nodded to the Sheriff and turned to take her leave.

Lady Rhiannon looked up to her lover after the midwife left.

"I'm sorry I frightened you, my prince." Lady Rhiannon said.

"My love, you did not cause this!" The Sheriff said. _No. I think I caused this! Curses! I should have known our child might come to harm!_

"I will do everything to hold onto this child, my lord." Rhiannon said. "I will do everything they tell me, I promise you." She vowed.

"I know, beautiful." The Sheriff smiled then kissed her softly. "My angel, if something should happen it will not be your fault. I will not blame you for it. Do not start holding yourself responsible. Right now you and our baby are safe." The Sheriff soothed.

"Oh, George, I kept thinking in the beginning I did not want this child. Maybe I did cause this to happen? I shall not forgive myself if I lose our child!" She exclaimed as she ran her hand over her belly, absently protecting her infant.

The Sheriff placed his left hand over her hand there and smiled warmly at her. "Rhiannon, do not think of it, my love. The child is safe just now." He said soothingly, though he was trying to reassure himself as well.

"Oh, my love, why is everything so difficult for us?" Rhiannon asked as she leaned into him and held onto him tightly.

"I do not know, my love." The Sheriff sighed. "But we will get through it together – whatever comes." He said as he stroked her hair.

"Stay with me, George." Rhiannon whispered.

"Always, my Rhiannon." He breathed.

"George?" She said as she looked into his eyes.

"What is it, my angel?" The Sheriff asked.

"It seems my sister in law knows of our child. I was in too much distress to care she was present. I wanted to tell Robert myself, but now I am not up to it. Could you speak with my brother, my lord? Or perhaps ask Isabelle to? Tell him it was my wish to tell him myself, and explain what is happening. I think my brother has a right to know if something should...happen to me." Lady Rhiannon whispered as she stared over his shoulder vacantly.

"Of course, Rhiannon. I will speak to him later, but I will not leave you now." The Sheriff said. "And nothing shall happen to you, my love. Do not talk like that, Rhiannon! You're a survivor. You've cheated death thrice already in the short time we've been together! You are _**my**_ lady, my Lady Nottingham. You are wilful. You are resilient! I shall always protect you, and have only the best assigned to care for you." The Sheriff smiled.

"My love, I keep thinking this could have happened when I was alone at my manor! Only a few days ago we were barely speaking! Oh, George – I don't know what I'd do without you now!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Oh, my angel, do not give me something more to mull over." The Sheriff sighed. "That's a frightening thought, Rhiannon. There's no use in us thinking on that. We are together now, we always will be. You are never alone, my beautiful lady." The Sheriff whispered.

"You have given me so much, my sweet prince. And now I realize how much I want your child. We can have a family, George. It shall be foreign to us, but we can have it – if I do not fail you!" Rhiannon cried.

"My lady, you have never failed me – ever! I doubt you ever could." The Sheriff said softly as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Hush, my angel. You're beginning to speak nonsense. Close your eyes and lean against me. I will not leave you." Nottingham promised her.

"I'm the luckiest lady in all of England." Rhiannon sighed happily as she held his face in her hands and gazed into his amber hazel eyes.

"My love, I am truly blessed to have you." The Sheriff said. "Now, listen to me, my soon to be wife! It is time for you to be quiet and rest." The Sheriff smirked.

"Very well, but only because you're dangerously attractive when you scorn me for any reason." Lady Rhiannon smiled knowingly, as she threaded her fingers through his silky, tousled, raven locks.

The Sheriff tugged at his collar and sighed. He was suddenly feeling rather warm.

Lady Rhiannon leaned into the Sheriff and laid her head against his black leather doublet. She took in his perfect, intoxicating, masculine scent of musk and leather and sighed happily. Even though she was frightened for her child, she felt comforted that the Sheriff was there holding her. She could get through anything if he were there to see her through it. She was certain of it.


	14. Chapter 69

Autumn rain was just beginning to fall softly on Saturday afternoon. The rain mingled with the fallen leaves created a heady, musty scent in the air. Luke, Drake, and Adam were standing guard this day at the portcullis of Nottingham Castle. Drake took off his helm and shook out his long, dark hair. He cursed. As usual, the helm was beginning to give him a headache.

"I do hope the new blacksmith's first order of business is issuing us pieces that actually fit us!" Drake spat.

"Well, it's about time something woke you up, mate. You've been yawning and acting quiet all blessed day!" Adam remarked, shaking his head.

"I was making rather merry with my lady, Mirabelle last evening." Drake grinned deviously.

"So it would seem." Luke chortled. "You best not let our master see you like that." He added firmly.

"As if he ever drops by to see us! I'm surprised you said he knew our names." Drake remarked, rolling his eyes.

"Trust me. The Sheriff knows all." Luke said with his eyebrow quirked.

"If you bedded Lady Mirabelle last night – watch out, mate. He might know _**that**_!" Adam laughed as he slapped Drake on the back.

"You are such a royal pain in my hindquarters, you know that?" Drake spat.

Luke turned when he heard horses on the main path approaching them. "Oh, no." He muttered. He was still looking in the same direction, but his right arm shot out and he slapped Adam.

"Lads!" Luke said sharply.

"What is it, mate?" Adam asked, his eyebrow quirked over his gray eyes.

"It's them! Curses! The Sheriff was heading to Portsmouth to arrest them. Draw your swords!" Luke ordered them.

Drake quickly put his helm back on and the two men drew their swords.

Hamon and Ancel advanced closer upon their horses, unfazed that three of the Sheriff's Black Knights were brandishing swords and walking toward them.

"Halt! Drop your weapons now!" Luke commanded them.

"Make me!" Hamon laughed maniacally as he grabbed his sword and wielded it in front of them.

"You are wanted by the noble Sheriff of Nottingham. By order of his lordship I am arresting you now! Drop your weapons and dismount from your horses. Now!" Luke barked.

"Please! Do not make me laugh!" The unfortunate appearing, balding, red haired man grinned. "I'm here to give you a message to give to your… _**master**_." Hamon said facetiously.

Luke looked to Adam and Drake. "After them!" He shouted.

"I'm going to Portsmouth, but tell him I shall be in touch! Tell him there's something he has that he should keep an eye on – because I'm watching it too!" Hamon called back after he and Ancel had kicked their horses into a gallop.

"Curses! Mount your horses, men! After them!" Luke ordered. He looked through the portcullis and called to one of the Sheriff's men who was just leaving his post at the stables after his relief showed up.

"You!" Luke called to the tall, gangly, red haired knight.

The knight looked over at him curiously.

"Get over here and man the portcullis this instant! A man wanted by the Sheriff is just over there!" Luke exclaimed as he pointed east. "I must go after him. Hurry!"

The knight nodded and swiftly walked toward his new post.

Luke ran to his horse that was twenty yards away. His bow was slung over his right shoulder, arrows in a sack slung over the other shoulder, and his sword was in his hand in readiness. He would not fail his master.

* * *

Robert was busy coaxing a piece of metal into one of the new helms he was asked by the Sheriff to construct. He was tapping it with a hammer over an anvil. A fire was blazing nearby. Stephanus walked over to him and carried some new swords with him to show to Robert for approval.

Stephanus set them down then looked in Robert's direction. "The swordsmith over there wanted you to look at these before he presents them to the Sheriff." He said.

"Yes. I shall look at them soon. I need to finish this." Robert said as he pointed to the helm he was working on.

Stephanus nodded then turn to continue on with his duties.

"Wait." Robert called to him. He set the hammer down along with the metal he was working on.

"Yes?" Stephanus asked.

"Tell me – where does the Sheriff obtain his steel from to use for his swords?" Robert asked.

"He's been using steel from Spain for three years now. He swears by it and won't use anything else." Stephanus explained.

"Would you know… who supplies him?" Robert asked pointedly.

"Aye, but why do you ask?" Stephanus asked.

"Because I am the Sheriff's blacksmith now. I'd like to know whom I'm dealing with when he shows up. How often does he show up anyway?" Robert pressed.

"The man comes on the first Wednesday of every month." Stephanus replied.

"And who is this man who supplies the Sheriff with Spanish steel?" Robert asked with his eyebrow quirked curiously.

"The man who brings the steel is Diago Florez, but he is not the supplier." Stephanus said. "The supplier is a man who lives in Catalonia. His name is Maximus Herrero. I believe the Sheriff has only ever met him once, but they do communicate through Diago. He is Herrero's henchman, delivery boy, and messenger it turns out." Stephanus explained.

"I see." Robert nodded. "Well, it looks like I just missed him. You say he shall be here next month?" Robert queried.

"Aye. He was just here three days ago. He shall return to us with the next shipment on November fifth." Stephanus said.

"Why does the Sheriff need so much of it? Is he planning for war?" Robert asked.

"Our master likes to be prepared after the fiasco in the Village Square in ninety four." Stephanus stated.

"Indeed." Robert said quietly. He looked downcast. He remembered that day very well.

"He's here." Stephanus said suddenly.

"Whom?" Robert asked, as he narrowed his blue green eyes upon him.

"Our master. I'm almost certain he is behind us." Stephanus said.

"What?" Robert exclaimed, incredulous.

He whirled around and his eyes widened. It seemed that Stephanus, his blind assistant was very perceptive. The Sheriff was standing there less than three feet away, with his arms folded across his chest. Sir Guy of Gisborne was standing there beside him.

"Isn't it ironic how it seems that often it is only the blind who can see?" The Sheriff remarked dryly with his eyebrow quirked.

Robert sighed and shook his head.

"Good day, milord." Stephanus smiled as he looked in the direction of his master.

"Good day, Stephanus." The Sheriff nodded. "I need to speak to Robert a moment but don't venture too far because I shall have a word with you after that."

"Very well, milord." Stephanus said and he left them to their privacy.

"What is it?" Robert asked, folding his arms.

"It's Rhiannon." The Sheriff said.

"What's wrong?" Robert asked as his eyes widened.

The Sheriff shook his head. "She asked me to tell you about our child that's on the way. You see, today she…" The Sheriff started to say it, but looked downcast.

"What? Is she alright?" Robert asked.

The Sheriff looked up slowly and met his gaze. "She nearly lost our child today." The Sheriff said quietly. "I needed to summon the midwife to see to her needs. As you may have guessed when you went to see my son a few days ago, the midwife has been caring for him at Guy's manor. I asked your wife to go to the manor in Nettlestone to care for my son in the midwife's absence. It was a desperate situation and I saw no other choice." Nottingham explained quickly.

"Oh, I see." Robert said.

"I shall grant you leave to join her if you wish. You and your wife shall be looked after for doing this for me." The Sheriff nodded.

"Rhiannon should know about her child. This is ludicrous!" Robert spat.

"Yes. I know it is, but if you saw her now you'd understand why she still doesn't know." The Sheriff stated as his eyebrow shot north.

"I must see her, Nottingham. If I go to stay with Isabelle and I'm not back for a few days, Rhiannon will wonder why I have not come to see her. Especially after she asked you to tell me about your child." Robert said.

"Of course you are welcome to see my lady." The Sheriff agreed.

"I've been thinking, milord. I can understand your hesitation to tell my sister about my nephew. I'm sure it's difficult for you to know where to begin. If it would be easier, I am offering to be there to help you tell this story and convince her." Robert explained.

"Hmm. That idea might hold some merit." The Sheriff nodded. "You're correct. Every time I start to tell her I stammer because I do not know where to begin!" The Sheriff huffed. "How do you tell your lady: "Guess what? You do not remember any of it but you birthed a child from your body."? You see how utterly moronic that sounds?" The Sheriff exclaimed in exasperation. "God help me, she'll kill me when she finds out how many others know of her child before she does. Yet – I cannot find the words!"

"I'm glad it's you and not me, though I think my lady Isabelle would shriek with glee. We've wanted children for some time." Robert said, his eyes downcast.

"Maybe it will happen for you – now that you don't have to concern yourself with running away from me any longer." The Sheriff said with a deviant grin.

Gisborne cleared his throat.

"Oh, sorry, Gis! I forgot you were there." The Sheriff said with an impish grin.

"Indeed." Gisborne said as his eyebrow quirked.

The Sheriff looked back to Robert. "Gisborne will take you to his manor. You can take one of my horses." The Sheriff said.

"What about my duties here?" Robert asked.

"I managed a long time with a blind blacksmith, Robert. I can manage again for a few days." Nottingham smiled.

"Very well." Robert said. He looked to Gisborne. "First I see my sister, and then we leave." He said firmly.

"As you wish." Gisborne said.

The Sheriff nodded to them, and his blacksmith and Lieutenant took their leave.

The Sheriff walked over to where Stephanus was working.

"Aye, milord. You wished to speak to me?" Stephanus asked.

"Yes, Stephanus. Robert needed to take leave for a few days." The Sheriff said.

"Already! He just started working for you yesterday, milord Sheriff!" Stephanus exclaimed.

"Yes, well, this is a personal matter. His position will be held for him, but you are to resume your former duties until he returns." The Sheriff instructed.

"Very well, milord." Stephanus nodded with a smile.

Just then Mordrid came running breathlessly into the armoury.

"Milord Sheriff! There you are! Come! We must go!" Mordrid called as he came quickly toward his master.

"What's going on?" The Sheriff asked, his eyebrow shot north suspiciously.

"Those men you are after from Portsmouth are here, milord. Luke and two other of your officers are pursuing them on horses! They brazenly came to your portcullis, milord!" Mordrid exclaimed.

"Let's go!" The Sheriff said sharply.

The Sheriff ran with Mordrid fast as lightening out of the armoury. He was filled with too much adrenaline charged excitement to remember about checking in on his lady again.

* * *

"Told you that was a bad idea going there!" Ancel spat as he rode alongside Hamon. His long brown hair lashed out in the brisk autumn wind and the rain that was picking up.

"You better get used to it, Ancel! I'm not ready to present myself to him yet. I have a task to complete first. That's why we're running away from them." Hamon snapped.

"You're mad!" Ancel barked.

"Fool! He must think we've gone to Portsmouth! He'll go looking for me and guess where I shall be?" Hamon said knowingly.

"And what if you don't succeed?" Ancel asked pointedly.

"Their wedding is in a month's time. God's nightgown, how could you miss those annoying heralds we passed in the village yesterday? There will be so many people at the _**noble**_ Sheriff's wedding it will be easy for us to steal our way in there." Hamon said.

"You have thought this through, I see." Ancel said as he narrowed his gray eyes.

"You're damn right I have." Hamon seethed.

"Good. So now what?" Ancel asked. He looked behind him. The Sheriff's Black Knights were gaining speed on their horses. He estimated they were about sixty yards behind.

"Follow me!" Hamon yelled as he quickly steered his equine left into a concealed pathway.

Ancel followed close behind. After that they hid in amongst some trees. They watched the Sheriff's knights pass them and continue down the path. After they were gone Hamon nodded to Ancel and they returned to the original road from which they came.

"What? What are you thinking, Hamon?" Ancel asked.

"To Sherwood Forest, fast as lightening!" Hamon exclaimed sharply. "They'll never think to look in there!" He shouted. He kicked the horse. "Ya!" He urged the equine.

Their horses sped away in the direction of the infamous forest where the legend of Robin Hood began.

* * *

Lady Meridwyn opened the door when Robert and Guy knocked on the door to the Sheriff's private chambers.

"She'll be glad to see you. She asked for you not long ago." Lady Meridwyn smiled at Robert. She opened the door wider and beckoned for them to enter.

"I'll wait here." Gisborne said to Robert. He pointed to the doors to the bedchamber.

Robert nodded and went to the double doors that led into the private chamber.

"How is she, my love?" Gisborne asked his wife.

"She is much improved from this morning." Lady Meridwyn said.

"I must leave soon, my dearest. Orders from my cousin. I shall return to you by sundown." Guy said as he softly caressed his wife's cheek.

She lowered her eyes and sighed, then looked up at him, her sky blue eyes twinkling with affection for him.

"That's fine. If you'll only be gone from me a few hours then I'll forgive him." Lady Gisborne winked.

Gisborne grabbed his lady and pulled her to him and kissed her lips hard. He was very grateful that her condition was faring well, yet fearful for her after what he heard about this morning. He planned to spoil his lady every chance he would get.

"Robert!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed when she saw her brother walking toward her.

"Oh, Rhiannon, he was right! You're so pale, my dear!" Robert remarked as he neared the four poster bed.

"I'm doing much better now." Lady Rhiannon smiled. She was propped up against several down pillows, and toying with the silky linens.

"I am pleased for you about the child." Robert smiled.

"Yes, well, don't be too pleased until the child is born safely to me when he is due – in the spring." Lady Rhiannon said.

"Do not worry, my dear. Mother had a time with you before you arrived but you held on for her." Robert said.

"Hmm. I did not know that." A beat. "Too bad _**she**_ couldn't hold on." Rhiannon frowned, her eyes downcast.

"That will _**not**_ happen to you!" Robert said firmly.

He walked over to the window and gazed out of it. Robert squinted his eyes as he looked down. He was certain that was the Sheriff he saw down in the courtyard, galloping toward the portcullis on a raven black horse with one of his knights riding alongside him! _No. That cannot be?_ He leaned out of the window a little and narrowed his blue green eyes again, shaking his head.

"Robert? Are you alright?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

Robert sighed and turned around to face her. He folded his arms. "Yes, Rhiannon. I guess I'm just worried about you, but I see you're well cared for." He nodded to the doors as Lady Margaret entered into the room just then.

"Milady Rhiannon, you're supposed to be resting!" Lady Margaret admonished as she neared the bed with her hands upon her hips.

"I am." Rhiannon said, rolling her eyes. She nodded to Robert. "This is my brother, Robert Wordsworth." Lady Rhiannon announced.

"A pleasure, milady." Robert grinned knowingly at the midwife. He had already met her on Wednesday afternoon when Gisborne took he and his lady to the manor in Nettlestone, but Rhiannon knew nothing of this.

"I'm sure." Lady Margaret remarked flatly as her eyebrow quirked.

"Can you just give me a few moments with him, Lady Margaret? He shall need to return to the armoury anyway." Rhiannon implored the midwife.

"Very well." Lady Margaret sighed. She looked up to Robert. "Make it brief." She said sternly, then she took her leave.

"Where is Isabelle?" Rhiannon asked her brother after the midwife left the chamber.

"Isabelle?" Robert muttered absently.

"Yes. Your wife." Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "She was here earlier when the episode happened, then she just vanished and I haven't seen her since?" Rhiannon shrugged.

"Yes, well, she feels it's best to give you some space just now, dearest." Robert said smoothly. "She feels this is a private matter between you and your Sheriff and she doesn't wish to intrude." Robert explained, surprised at how effortlessly he was able to lie to her.

"Intrude? She is my sister in law! What shall she intrude upon, Robert? I'm perfectly fine now!" Rhiannon stated, shaking her head. Her sable tresses lashed around her face as she did so.

"You're not out of the woods yet, Rhiannon. One look at you and anyone would know that! She'll be back to see you, have no fear." Robert reassured.

"Well, you know her better than I. I wouldn't wish her to feel awkward." Rhiannon sighed.

"I haven't much time, dear sister. I have a list of specifications as long as my arm from the Sheriff – of orders to complete. Alas, there is much work waiting in the armoury. We're backed right up down there! I shall try to come again to see you, Rhiannon, but the next day or two may be difficult for me." Robert said as he looked away.

"What the hell is going on? You're not making sense, Robert! For pity's sake, we live in the same castle! Where is George?" She demanded.

Robert coughed. "I just saw him, dear sister. In the court – " He stopped and cleared his throat. "In the armoury, my dear! Aye! He came to see me to inquire how things are faring down there." Robert said a little too quickly.

"There is something odd going on around here, alright. What are you two up to?" Lady Rhiannon demanded as she folded her arms and narrowed her green eyes upon him.

"My dear, we are _**not**_ up to anything. I hardly know the man!" Robert laughed nervously.

"Good! Then ask the sentry to summon him for me. At once!" Rhiannon said sharply.

"Yes, Rhiannon." Robert sighed. He went to his sister and kissed her forehead before taking his leave.

* * *

Luke pulled tightly on the reins to slow his horse. Adam and Drake followed suit.

"Curses! We've lost them!" Luke spat.

"I don't know how? We followed them down this cursed path!" Drake exclaimed.

"What are they wanted for?" Adam asked Luke.

"Don't know about the tall fellow but the unfortunate looking one is wanted for heresy." Luke said. "You didn't hear that from me, by the way. I don't even think the outlaw knows what he is wanted for. We cannot hamper the investigation." He explained.

"Absolutely." Adam agreed. "My! Heresy, you say?" He shuddered. "I hate those executions." Adam muttered.

"Aye. They're damned unpleasant, I'll grant you that." Drake agreed with his friend.

"Come on, let's go back. I shall have to report to the Sheriff. I'm not looking forward to this." Luke muttered in chagrin as he urged his horse along.

The men followed him and they rode back down the narrow concealed pathway toward the main road that would lead them back to Nottingham Castle. Some time later they ran into the Sheriff and Officer Mordrid of the Black Knights. Nottingham was galloping toward them and slowed his midnight black equine when he advanced closer.

"Where is he, Luke?" The Sheriff demanded of his officer.

"We followed them down a hidden path back there but lost them, milord." Luke frowned.

"Bastards!" The Sheriff spat.

"He said he was heading back to Portsmouth when he brazenly appeared at the gate, milord Sheriff." Luke said.

"That would explain the route he took." The Sheriff sighed. "Did he say anything else?" He asked quickly.

"Yes. He said he would be in touch, and that there is something you have that you must keep an eye on, because he is watching it too." Luke stated.

"I have no idea what the insect is muttering about! Isn't this similar to his last message?" The Sheriff asked.

"Aye, milord. The last time he said you should keep an eye on your belongings." Luke reminded him.

"So the bastard is a thief too!" The Sheriff spat. "What – he's after my gold?"

"I do not know, milord." Luke shook his head.

"I don't understand it? We were not that far behind them for a time. I thought we'd have them easily!" Adam exclaimed in frustration.

"The sodding bastard is a heretic – and a magician it would seem!" The Sheriff huffed. "Don't worry, lads. I'll get the cursed insect in Portsmouth!" The Sheriff laughed with a malevolent grin. "I have some grand plans in store for this one!" He snarled.

* * *

Lady Meridwyn entered into the Sheriff's private chambers later in the afternoon. She promised Lady Margaret she would administer the wine. She glided through the den, then through the doors into the bedchamber with the goblet in her hand. Her emerald green wool gown, brushed on the marble floor and the skirt swirled about her. She found Rhiannon to be standing by the window gazing out of it.

"Rhiannon! What are you doing?" Lady Meridwyn scorned.

"I needed some air." Rhiannon said as she leaned out of the window. She folded her arms, resting them upon the ledge and leaned her chin into them.

"You should be in that bed!" Lady Meridwyn said sternly as she pointed to it with her left hand.

"I'm only standing. I'm not moving. Just give me a few moments, Meridwyn. You know very well how this nausea feels!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

Meridwyn sighed. "It is time for your wine." She said as she moved toward her and passed Rhiannon the goblet.

Rhiannon took it and began to sip it. "Have you seen my betrothed? I haven't seen him for hours?" Rhiannon lamented.

"No. I haven't seen him, my dear. Not since this morning." Meridwyn said.

"Where's Guy?" Rhiannon asked as she took another sip of the wine.

"He was sent on a mission by your lover. He said he'd return by sundown." Lady Meridwyn replied.

"Oh. When did he tell you that?" Rhiannon asked as she quirked her eyebrow.

"When your brother was here." Meridwyn answered.

"How strange. And another thing – Robert was acting strangely too!" Rhiannon exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Rhiannon, do not concern yourself over this now." Meridwyn said. "You shall drive yourself mad!"

"They're up to something, Meridwyn. At least my betrothed and my brother are. There's something funny about Isabelle too. And George! Why, he just up and disappeared?" Rhiannon frowned and shook her head. She took a few sips of the wine to stay her nerves and continued. "Perhaps Guy is in on it too?" She suggested.

"Guy has not given me any reason to be suspicious of him." Meridwyn said with her eyebrow quirked, shaking her head, bewildered.

Rhiannon turned toward the window again and gazed down into the courtyard toward the portcullis as she sipped her wine. She shook her head, her jaw firmly set as her eyebrow raised. "Well, George has just given me reason. What is he doing down there riding through the portcullis on his horse?" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed, incredulous. She looked over to her friend. "And do _**not**_ tell me I'm imagining it!"

"What?" Lady Meridwyn asked, her jaw agape.

"Look!" Lady Rhiannon pointed in the direction she had seen him. Meridwyn moved beside her and the two of them gazed down into the courtyard. Indeed, the Sheriff was riding into the courtyard now with one of his knights alongside him.

"Hmm. Isn't that strange?" Meridwyn agreed. "I wonder if that means that Guy shall return soon?" She mused. She looked to her friend with her eyebrow quirked. "You best return to the bed, Rhiannon. You _**know**_ he'll be here to see you in moments!"

Rhiannon sighed. She slowly lifted the golden goblet to her lips and began to sip more of the wine as she stared unblinking into her friend's bright blue eyes.

Lady Meridwyn shook her head vehemently, her fiery curls danced upon her slender shoulders. "Rhiannon!" Lady Meridwyn admonished. "You're asking for trouble!"

"Ha! That's why he loves me." Rhiannon grinned playfully.

"I thought this child was important to you?" Meridwyn pointed out as she folded her arms. She decided she must speak to the midwife about this ludicrous treatment recommendation. It was making her friend take complete leave of her senses!

"Of course it is, Meridwyn! But I feel much better now." Rhiannon smiled. The truth was that the lady was in denial of the danger to her now, having been reassured that her pain had stopped, and holding on now to a false sense of security.

"This morning was your sign, Rhiannon. That child is asking you to pay attention. Now, come on! The Sheriff shall be here any moment!" Meridwyn huffed. She grabbed Rhiannon by the arm and started leading her to the bed.

"Oh, alright." Rhiannon sighed and relented.

* * *

Just as Lady Meridwyn predicted, fifteen minutes later the Sheriff came into the private chamber. Lady Meridwyn had already left, and Lady Rhiannon sat up in the bed against several pillows, waiting for him.

"Oh, my prince, where were you? You said you'd stay with me." Rhiannon pouted as he came to her swiftly.

The Sheriff reached up with his hand and shook out his hair as he moved toward her.

"Forgive me, my angel. I had some business to attend to." The Sheriff smiled. He took off his gauntlets and his surcoat and cast them aside to a nearby chair. He went to the bed and sat beside his lady.

"My love, your hair is wet! Were you outside in the rain? Where on earth did you go to?" Rhiannon asked innocently.

"I needed to speak to some of my knights. I was only out there a few moments, but I got drenched!" The Sheriff laughed nervously. He knew he'd have to answer to her for this when he snuck out when she fell asleep. At the moment, the only thing he felt slightly guilty for was taking off after Homely Hamon.

"I see." Rhiannon said as she quirked her eyebrow.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" The Sheriff asked her curiously.

"Because I saw – " She stopped herself. _Curses! I cannot tell him I was standing at the window and saw him upon his horse! He'll never forgive me!_ She shook her head and closed her eyes in frustration. Angry at him for lying to her, and angry at herself for not being able to confront him about it. Then her eyes widened as a realization came over her. _Does this have anything to do with that whore, Celestria?_

"You saw…what exactly?" The Sheriff asked pointedly as his eyebrow shot north.

"It must be the wine." Rhiannon said absently as she nodded to the goblet on the table beside the bed.

"My love? What is it? You look rather distressed about something!" The Sheriff commented as he narrowed his eyes upon her.

"George, where were you?" Lady Rhiannon asked firmly. "Who were you with for the last three hours?" She asked pointedly.

"Rhiannon?" The Sheriff asked as his eyes widened. "What are you saying?" He shook his head and his damp raven locks sprayed a fine mist into the air around him.

Rhiannon bit her lip. He looked so sensual to her. Damn him! "You told me you would not leave me, but nobody has seen you for hours!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"My love, I had a matter to deal with. That is all. I have been with Gisborne, your brother, and my Officer Mordrid of the Black Knights." He stated as his eyebrow shot north. "What in the devil are you implying?" Nottingham asked, incredulously.

Rhiannon sighed. "Nothing." She muttered and looked downcast.

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff said firmly.

"Yes?" She muttered absently.

"Look at me!" He commanded her.

She looked up at him and fixed her aqua green eyes upon him.

"Forgive me, my angel. I should have delegated someone to take care of it for me, but I didn't. I am here with you now, my angel." The Sheriff said. He took a deep breath and pierced into her eyes with his. "Now, tell me whom you thought I was with?" He asked pointedly.

"Oh, George, forget it." Lady Rhiannon sighed.

"No. I want you to tell me whom you thought I was with!" The Sheriff said sharply.

"It is nothing, my prince. Forgive me. I'm just frustrated. I feel like a bleeding prisoner!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

The Sheriff shook his head and narrowed his eyes trying to make sense of her.

"The whole world is moving right along without me, and here I am. Stuck in this bed." Rhiannon pouted.

"My love, you haven't even been confined in it for one whole day yet." The Sheriff smirked and shook his head. This was so typical of her to be annoyed that she couldn't be mobile.

"How am I supposed to keep up with you if I have to keep lying down?" Rhiannon pointed out.

"What?" The Sheriff asked, incredulous.

"If I am asked to stay confined to this cursed bed until spring, heaven forbid – are you going to stand for that?" Lady Rhiannon asked pointedly.

"What? Of course I will! What choice would I have?" The Sheriff asked, bewildered.

"You – stuck with a lady who is infirm! Right. That will work!" Rhiannon remarked facetiously as she rolled her eyes.

"My lady, whatever is required of you, whatever you must do – it doesn't matter. I will be your husband. You are not infirm! You are doing what you must for our child!" The Sheriff exclaimed. What was wrong with her? Was the wine doing this? He must speak to Thomas about this. She's going daft – already!

"Neediness is weakness." Rhiannon stated firmly, folding her arms.

"My lady Rhiannon, you cannot control this. The situation does not mean you're weak. God knows you've never been needy – you're far too wilful for that!" He sighed.

"I want this child, George, but will I resent him or her in the end? If I must be confined to this room for days and days…" She shuddered and rolled her eyes. "God forbid – weeks… I will feel like I'm being buried alive!" Rhiannon exclaimed in a panic. She started to shake and began breathing faster than normal again.

"My angel, you're doing your usual thing again – jumping way ahead of yourself. You can only take this one step at a time." The Sheriff said. He put his hands firmly upon her shoulders. "Look at me, lady!" He said sharply.

She opened her eyes and looked up into his amber hazel eyes, searching into his eyes with hers. She was still trembling and hyperventilating.

"Come on, Rhiannon! Slow your breathing! Calm down, my lady. Listen to me!" The Sheriff commanded.

She took a deep breath as she stared into his eyes, and slowly her breathing returned to normal, though she was still trembling.

"What about our wedding? I will not postpone it again." Lady Rhiannon stated when she got a hold of herself.

"We have a little more than a month to think on it, my lady. I agree. You shall be my wife on… November eleventh." The Sheriff sighed and shook his head. "We'll figure it out if it kills me – though I'm kind of leaning toward the seventh, myself." The Sheriff added with a deviant grin.

Rhiannon smiled. "Normally I'd argue with you – but I won't." She said as she fluttered her dark lashes and cast him that seductive sideways glance that drove him to madness.

He sighed and tugged at the collar of his doublet. "Good. Do not think on this a moment longer. It was only hours ago you were in great distress, and now you seem much improved. If things remain the way they are now, I'm sure the medicus and the midwife shall be satisfied, and our wedding shall proceed just as we planned." The Sheriff smiled. He pulled her to him and held her in a warm embrace.

"I do seem better, my prince. You will be able to go to Portsmouth tomorrow." Rhiannon said as she leaned into his dampened, black leather doublet. She didn't care it was wet, as long as _**he**_ was wearing it.

"No, my angel. Not tomorrow. Perhaps on Monday as long as things remain quiet with you. I need to summon the Bishop and speak to him before I go anyway. I need to bring him with me." The Sheriff explained.

"Are you going to finally tell me what this is about?" Rhiannon asked as she pulled away from his embrace and looked up at him.

"The outlaw I'm after is a heretic. That is why I need the Bishop." The Sheriff said.

"Oh, my! That's a rather serious charge!" Rhiannon exclaimed as her eyes widened.

"Yes. Isn't it?" The Sheriff sneered. "And if all goes as planned, I should have him in my custody by Tuesday evening." A beat. "What a delightful thought!" He mused as a malevolent grin began to form, curling the corners of his black mustache. His eyes glazed over and a dark, sinister shadow suddenly passed over him.

Lady Rhiannon shuddered. She looked up into this handsome man's face and she suddenly didn't know him. Not in that moment. She wondered if she was seeing a glimpse into the infamous, evil Sheriff of Nottingham just then in that fleeting second – whom everyone was so quick to tell her of but she had never known. She gazed up into his eyes as he stared over her shoulder vacantly, and realized the man she was in love with was very complex and that there were several layers to him. Perhaps that was why he was always so intriguing to her?


	15. Chapter 70

At dusk that same day, Guy of Gisborne came into his private chambers. He found his wife seated on a chair by the fireplace.

"There you are, my love! Just as you promised." Lady Meridwyn smiled as she arose and walked toward her husband.

"Yes." Guy said absently.

"And how did it go?" Lady Meridwyn asked.

"What, my dear?" He asked in his perfect, raspy voice.

Lady Meridwyn sighed. It was one of the things about him that made her melt. She especially loved it when he whispered in her ear when he was loving her.

"Your mission or whatever it was." Lady Meridwyn said.

"Oh, yes. It was fine, my dear." Gisborne smiled. He glided swiftly to her and held her to him.

"Hungry?" He asked with a deviant grin.

"Maybe!" She laughed wickedly.

"Whatever it is you're hungry for I can offer you." Guy whispered. "I have requested a tray from the kitchen." He winked.

"We can get to that later. First I'm going to eat _**you**_." She purred as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "So, tell me, Guy – what of this mission you were sent on today?" She asked slowly. She'd been thinking about what Rhiannon said earlier. If anyone would know what the Sheriff was up to, Guy would know. He was the only one the Sheriff trusted to tell anything to.

"What of it, Meridwyn? There's really nothing to tell. My cousin asked me to do something for him, so I took care of it. If I wasted my time every day discussing my duties with you, we'd never have time for anything else!" Guy exclaimed.

"Where did you go?" Lady Meridwyn asked with her eyebrow quirked. He seemed awfully defensive just now.

Gisborne exhaled an audible sigh and looked downcast. "There was a matter to deal with in Nettlestone." Guy said.

"Oh? What was in Nettlestone – besides your manor, that is?" She asked.

"Uh, right. Well, it was a matter of… taxes." Guy lied. "I was asked to see a merchant there who was reluctant to give it to us." He said as he looked to the left and stared vacantly.

"Why couldn't Gregor do it?" Meridwyn asked. Why could he not look her in the eye?

"Because he was collecting taxes for the Sheriff in another village. My cousin thought that I might be… more persuasive." Guy said smoothly, still glancing to the left. He hoped they could move away from this topic. He hated having to lie to her.

"I see." Lady Meridwyn said. Rhiannon was right. There _**was**_ something going on. "Funny you mentioned Nettlestone, my sweet. I could surely use a get away. Take me there, Guy. Take me to your manor." Meridwyn smiled up at him, her bright blue eyes pleading with him.

Gisborne swallowed. "It is _**our**_ manor, my love." He said weakly. He cleared his throat and continued. "Well, hmm. You see, I don't think I'll be able to get away for awhile, my lady. My cousin and I shall be venturing to Portsmouth with the Bishop of Hereford in the next day or two. We need to make an arrest there." Guy explained.

"Then take me after you get back." Meridwyn suggested.

"The man we're after will be charged with heresy, Meridwyn. There will be a lengthy trial and God knows what else involved. We're only in the beginning of the investigation. There may be much for me to do in the coming days." Guy said as he put his hands upon her shoulders.

"Can't Duke Farnsworth cover for you then?" Lady Meridwyn pouted.

"No." Guy stated firmly.

"I do not understand? You're offering excuses to keep me away from there?" Lady Meridwyn said, shaking her head. "Guy, what is going on in Nettlestone?" She asked pointedly.

Guy shook his head. His long brown hair lashed out in the air. "What do you mean, my dearest?" He laughed nervously.

"There's something funny going on. I can tell when you're fibbing!" Lady Meridwyn huffed as she folded her arms.

"My love, what in the devil are you talking about?" Guy asked.

Meridwyn's eyes widened as a thought came to her. "Have you got some rotten, little tramp waiting for you there? Is that what this is about, Guy?" Meridwyn demanded as she put her hands upon her hips and narrowed her blue eyes upon him suspiciously.

"What?" Guy exclaimed, incredulous.

"That's it, isn't it? I'm getting stout and I'm not all that attractive to you anymore! Splendid!" Lady Meridwyn muttered facetiously as she moved away from her husband and turned her back to him.

Guy closed his eyes and shook his head. His jaw was set in anger. He was going to speak to his cousin about ending this cursed charade – the sooner the better! Now his wife thought he was romantically entangled with another maiden! _How laughable – if I didn't have an urge to strangle him just now! Curses! The things I do for that sorry, old beast!_

"My lady, you couldn't be more wrong!" Guy exclaimed. He went toward her and put his hands upon her shoulders. He leaned into her ear. She felt the heat of his breath upon her neck when he spoke. "You're beautiful, my Meridwyn, and right now while you're carrying our child – you've never been more beautiful." He whispered seductively in her ear.

She turned around and looked up at him. "Really, Guy?" She smiled weakly. "I feel so incredibly stout!" Lady Meridwyn pouted.

"My love, you are aglow. You are absolutely radiant." He said as he reached out and tilted her chin up to force her to meet his gaze. "We must work on our next child as soon as possible after our daughter arrives." Guy grinned.

"You're convinced we're having a little lass." She smiled warmly.

"Yes, my love. I feel it!" Guy smiled as he caressed her cheek. "We must start practicing for this family we're going to have, Meridwyn." Guy said softly as he slowly unlaced the ribbons that fastened her bodice together on her gown.

Meridwyn closed her eyes and sighed. She felt a heat rush come over her at his touch. She opened her eyes and looked into his steel blue eyes. "I've been thinking, my love. I've been thinking a little about names for our child. I cannot come up with a name for a little boy, but I think I have a good one in mind if we have a daughter." She said as her eyebrow quirked.

"What is that, my love?" Guy asked, curiously.

"Eve. After your mother." Meridwyn smiled.

"Really?" Guy asked. A smile spread across his face.

"Yes. It's a lovely name, my love! I have another one in mind for the second name too." Lady Meridwyn hinted.

"Tell me!" He exclaimed, suddenly quite animated.

"I had a very dear childhood friend. We were like sisters and we did everything together. Unfortunately she died tragically in a fire when we were ten. Her name was Elizabeth. Rhiannon reminds me of her. If Elizabeth was granted a longer life, I swear they could have been twins! Their similarities in appearance and manner sometimes give me gooseflesh." Lady Meridwyn explained. "Elizabeth was very dear to me, like Rhiannon is now. I've always thought I would honour her memory someday if I were to have a little girl, if that's alright with you." Meridwyn smiled.

"Eve Elizabeth. "Guy said as he looked up thoughtfully. "I like it, my lady! Eve Elizabeth Gisborne shall be our daughter's name." He smiled warmly at her and leaned down and kissed her softly.

"We better come up with a boy's name, Guy. We wouldn't want our son nameless!" Meridwyn laughed.

"Yes, my love." Guy muttered absently as he held her to him.

Guy couldn't help but think of his wee nephew. He certainly was a pleasing little boy! Why, the lad was cute as a button and his hair was just like his father's! Guy imagined that his cousin probably looked very much like that when he was an infant. The Sheriff was quite a bit older than Guy though – by twelve years to be exact, so Guy could only imagine what his cousin must have looked like. Guy thought it was a shame his nephew didn't have a name yet. He knew this fact bothered his cousin.

"Indeed, my love. I shall try to think of something if we have a son, but I'm telling you – we're having a wee lass, Meridwyn. I can feel it!" Gisborne smiled happily as he inhaled the scent of wildflowers from his lovely lady's hair.

* * *

The Sheriff walked into the private chamber smiling as he carried a tray for his lady.

"Oh, good! Food! I'm starving! What are you bringing me, my sweet prince?" Lady Rhiannon asked as she sat up in bed and smiled warmly at her lover.

"Well, uhm, don't get too excited about it, love." The Sheriff frowned as he set the tray on the table beside the bed.

She inched over in the bed, slithering on her stomach and looked at the tray. She looked up at the Sheriff and quirked an eyebrow over her green eyes. "What – is that some kind of broth?" She exclaimed as she made a face.

"Yes, my lady. It is veal broth." The Sheriff announced.

"But – that's it? Nothing at all for me to chew? What the –"

"Orders from the medicus and the midwife. You are only allowed liquids until…" He stopped and looked downcast as his words trailed off.

"Until when? Tomorrow?" She asked.

"Tuesday. Monday night if you're lucky." He remarked with an impish grin.

"What?" Rhiannon exclaimed, incredulous.

"For some reason they feel it's best, my angel. Lady Margaret mentioned something about food in your stomach causing irritation to your… womb." The Sheriff closed his eyes and sighed. He was learning far too much about the human body of late! "She said it could cause the pain to begin again." He explained.

"George, you best sit down, my love. You look rather pale just now." Rhiannon giggled.

"Forgive me, my angel." He said. He sat down beside her on the bed.

"Well if they think it is best, I won't argue, my lord. It seems like punishment to me, but it shall be worth it in the end if I can hold onto this child." Rhiannon said.

"I'm sorry, my lady. You are being very brave for me." Nottingham smiled as he kissed her forehead.

"I don't know if I'm brave. I just know what I want." She smiled.

"What do you want, my angel?" He whispered.

"You and our child." Lady Rhiannon answered quickly.

"Oh, my lady." The Sheriff breathed as he held her to him in a sweet embrace.

"Our child is giving us trouble now, my prince. That means he shall be a perfect angel!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

"No child of mine shall be a perfect angel, my lady. You better get used to that." He said with a deviant grin as his eyebrow shot north. "And you're forgetting – we could have a little girl. You always refer to the child as 'he' or 'him'. The Sheriff pointed out.

"I guess I just wish to give you a son." Rhiannon sighed.

He was aching to hold her face in his hands and say to her: "My angel, you _**did**_ give me a son!", but he knew the timing couldn't be more wrong. Not when she was in a state like this. He sighed. He wished to see his son. Perhaps tomorrow he would try to get away after he met with the Bishop. Earlier he had asked the Scribe to go to the Bishop and tell him to meet with Nottingham on the morrow. The Scribe should be delivering the news right this moment.

"My love? What are you thinking of?" Rhiannon asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

"How much I cannot wait for you to be my wife, and for our child to come, and for our life to begin." The Sheriff answered smoothly. _And for my son to come home – where he belongs._ He sighed.

"I love you, my sweet prince." Lady Rhiannon sighed happily as she held his face in her hands and softly caressed his cheeks.

"Oh, my Rhiannon. I love you too." Nottingham whispered and kissed her lips softly.

* * *

On Sunday October fifth, the Sheriff was meeting with the Bishop of Hereford in the Bishop's private chambers of the cathedral, following mass that morning.

The Bishop was standing before a table. A small wooden chest was opened there. His mitre was resting on the table beside the chest. He removed his narrow, taupe coloured stole from around his neck, and carefully folded it and placed it inside the chest.

"What do wish to speak to me about, milord? Are you ready to deal with the heretic in Portsmouth?" The Bishop asked.

"Yes. The investigation is complete. As you know, when we discussed this matter just over a fortnight ago, I told you I was sending my Lieutenant to investigate the matter. Gisborne left for Portsmouth three days after you and I spoke and returned to report his findings four days later." The Sheriff said.

"I see." The Bishop muttered, narrowing his blue eyes.

"It turns out the cursed insect has been running around Nottingham for the last week or more, so that is why I haven't ventured to Portsmouth. I've been trying to catch the bastard here, but it seems he is on his way back there. We believe we have enough evidence to support the heresy charge." The Sheriff said firmly as he folded his arms and narrowed his amber hazel eyes.

"That is good. It is helpful if there is proof to present in these cases." The Bishop explained.

"Indeed. Now, I'm not very clear on the protocol for proceeding with this. I haven't dealt in one of these cases for half a dozen years or more. My Lieutenant and I are planning to leave tomorrow. I'm suggesting you accompany us." The Sheriff said.

"Very well. I think it would be advisable. I would need to see the evidence." The Bishop nodded.

"Good." The Sheriff smiled. "Prepare for a five day journey in case we run into any difficulty with the cursed little insect while we're there." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north knowingly.

"Indeed, milord Sheriff." The Bishop nodded.

"There's one more thing." The Sheriff said.

"Oh? What is that, milord?" The Bishop asked.

"My lady and I have chosen a date for our nuptials. We will be wed on November eleventh, so if you had anything planned that day – cancel it." The Sheriff smirked.

The Bishop nodded. "I shall make a note of it, milord." He smiled.

The Sheriff swiftly exited the Bishop's chambers. He was eager to leave the cathedral. He only attended mass this day for two reasons: because the Bishop would be marrying he and Rhiannon in just over five week's time, and to tell him of the plans to go to Portsmouth. Now he needed to get back to the castle. First he needed to meet with his men, schedule in a visit with his son, and then he would spend the rest of the day with Lady Rhiannon. He hated having to leave her but this was a matter he preferred to deal with and get out of the way as soon as possible. He knew he was taking a risk by leaving her but she had remained quiet ever since Thomas began administering the wine to her yesterday morning.

He saw Gisborne and Lady Meridwyn speaking to some noblemen and their ladies in the reception hall of the cathedral. He gestured for Gisborne to come to him. Gisborne excused himself from the conversation and walked over to his cousin.

"Yes, cousin. What is it?" Gisborne asked.

"I spoke with the Bishop. He shall accompany us. I need to meet with my men. Your presence is requested in fifteen minutes in the Council Quarters if you can tear yourself away from this cursed tomb!" The Sheriff spat.

"Very well." Gisborne nodded. He cleared his throat before changing the topic. "Cousin, have you given any thought as to when you'd uh… tell your lady about your son?" Guy asked slowly, keeping his voice lowered so he wouldn't be heard.

"It shall be sometime after I return from Portsmouth. Why?" The Sheriff asked pointedly as he narrowed his eyes upon his cousin.

"It's nothing. I'd just that my wife thought I had a lady waiting for me in Nettlestone." Guy sighed.

"And why would she think that?" The Sheriff asked, shaking his head.

"She demanded to know where I was yesterday. I told her I went to Nettlestone to collect taxes from a stingy merchant." Guy said.

"Aren't you smooth, cousin?" The Sheriff remarked as his eyebrow shot north. "If it's any consolation, I was accused of the same thing when I disappeared on my lady yesterday. I was with you in the armoury, then as you know I was chasing after the elusive insect!" The Sheriff spat. "She asked me who I was with." He added with a snarl.

"I hate lying to Meridwyn." Guy seethed.

"You're doing me a favour. When she finds out the truth she will understand!" The Sheriff huffed. "I've been lying to my lady for months, but this is the best I can do for now. Do you know I actually tried to tell her once?" The Sheriff asked with a knowing look.

"What? No, you didn't tell me! When was that?" Guy asked curiously.

"Just over a month ago. It was the Tuesday before your wedding. Remember when she barged into the Council Quarters that day? We were meeting with the Scribe and one of my knights. We were discussing the matter of Stephanus before we knew the poor, cursed soul was going blind!" The Sheriff reminded him.

"Oh, yes. She was behaving very peculiarly that day." Guy nodded. "What was that scroll she had in her hand?" He asked.

"It was my proclamation. No wonder she was alarmed. Her brother's image was upon it!" The Sheriff exclaimed with a shudder. He realized she was trying to tell him that day. _"You're wrong. I know for a fact this man could not have kidnapped a child. He couldn't…That man is dead."_ He could still hear Rhiannon's voice uttering the words. He shook his head.

Guy looked at him, slightly bewildered. The Sheriff looked up at him and continued.

"She demanded to know what the man in the proclamation was wanted for so I told her. Then she challenged me and asked me – whose child did the man have. So I told her. I said: "It is _**our**_ child who was kidnapped." The Sheriff sighed.

"Oh! Well? What did she say to that?" Guy asked as his eyebrow quirked over his steel blue eyes.

"She laughed." The Sheriff snarled. "She stared at me a moment, then she just burst out laughing and exclaimed that I was making it up! She asked if that was the best I could come up with!" The Sheriff spat.

"Because she doesn't remember." Guy pointed out.

"I wish something would jog her memory to help me out because this matter is getting to be too bloody much!" The Sheriff huffed. He noticed some passersby eyeing him curiously just then. He looked downcast and sighed. "Bear with me, cousin. She shall know soon enough. She must or I shall go mad! Now, do not remind me more of this cursed situation I'm in! I shall see you in the Council Quarters in ten minutes hence." The Sheriff stated firmly.

Gisborne nodded and the Sheriff swiftly exited the cathedral. He ran into Duke Farnsworth in the courtyard and asked the Duke to round up Luke, Mordrid, and Adam and bring them to the Council Quarters. After he thought more about it, he decided to make one change to his original plans.

* * *

His men gathered before him in the Council Quarters as per his request, and on time. Officer Adam was bewildered and wondered why he was summoned. He looked to his comrade and cast him a curious glance, but Luke only shrugged in response.

"Is it time, milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Indeed. It is time. Tomorrow my Lieutenant and I and Officer Mordrid shall depart for Portsmouth, and the Bishop shall accompany us. However, after much consideration I've decided to bring one other of you along with me. Clearly, it's the only choice that makes sense and I should have thought of it before." The Sheriff hinted.

"Milord?" The Duke asked curiously.

Luke and Adam looked at each other, wondering what this was about.

"It occurred to me two days ago when Gisborne, Mordrid and I arrived at Nottingham Inn that none of us could describe the outlaw's henchman to the innkeeper. Luckily the innkeeper had seen Homely Hamon with his comrade so he knew whom I was referring to." The Sheriff explained as he clasped his hands together and walked toward Luke and Adam.

Nottingham looked to Luke. "I thought of bringing you along, Luke, but your duty shall be the same. You have the most important responsibility and there is no one else I wish to assign it to. You shall be guardian of my lady commencing tomorrow at midday when I leave." The Sheriff said.

"Very well." Luke swallowed.

"You are to report to Alistor and tell him you shall guard my chamber in his stead. You shall also accompany my lady should she choose to leave the chamber, though you must be warned – she is recovering from… an illness. She should remain in the chamber while you are guarding her if she knows what's good for her. She is being seen to by my personal physician and… his assistant, but should my wilful wife to be pull her usual act of disappearing – you will be her shadow." The Sheriff said firmly.

"Aye, milord Sheriff. Understood, but – who is Alistor?" Luke asked, shaking his head.

"My sentry! He is posted at my chamber door every cursed day!" The Sheriff spat.

"No, sir. Actually… that is Alfred." Luke corrected.

"Bah! Alfred, Albert, Alan, Alistor – whatever! He shall have a new assignment too. He shall be assigned to man the portcullis with Drake." The Sheriff stated. He looked over to Adam. "You shall accompany my Lieutenant, Officer Mordrid, and myself to Portsmouth. You will be the only one of us to have seen the outlaw's henchman, Adam, that is why I need you there." The Sheriff explained.

"As you wish, milord Sheriff." Adam nodded. He suppressed a grin. He was pleased his master did remember his name, and he was most eager for the mission. It had been three years since he was asked to participate with one.

"Good." The Sheriff said. He looked to his Captain of the Black Knights. "Duke, your assignment is the same. You are in charge in my absence. Everything is taken care of. You may only need to meet with some of my staff from time to time. We will only be gone four days – five at best, so I trust you shall be able to manage?" The Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north.

"Aye, milord. There won't be a problem." The Duke nodded.

The Sheriff smiled. "Very good. Then tomorrow we begin. Tomorrow we leave at midday with the Bishop of Hereford. We shall meet here in this very chamber and then depart." He looked to Mordrid and Adam. "Prepare for a five day journey, men. Let the heresy trial begin!" He snarled.

* * *

A few hours later he was walking along the path toward the door of Guy's manor. He was met with his men, Officers Richard and Nigel, who were dutifully standing guard outside of the door.

"Oh, good. I'm glad to see you lads are finally taking your duty seriously." The Sheriff remarked facetiously as he stood before them.

The tall, dark haired knight with the vivid green eyes spoke first.

"Of course, milord Sheriff." Richard nodded.

"Has there been any trouble?" The Sheriff asked of the two men.

"No, milord. The only visitors to the manor have been you, Gisborne, and Master Wordsworth and his lady." Nigel replied as he pushed some strands of his unruly blond hair from his green eyes.

"Good. Just be on your guard. You never know who might make trouble." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north knowingly.

His men nodded and stepped aside. He wrapped upon the door.

Robert opened the door and greeted the Sheriff.

"I do have servants here who could have answered the door for you." The Sheriff said.

"Force of habit." Robert grinned. He opened the door wider and the Sheriff stepped past the threshold.

"How is he? How is my boy?" The Sheriff asked as he removed his gauntlets and held them in his hand.

"He's thriving, milord. What a delightful lad he is!" Robert smiled.

"He certainly is." The Sheriff agreed.

"He reminds me so much of my brother it is eerie." Robert commented as he shook his head. "Aye. It is quite astounding! I don't know why I never noticed it before?" He added.

"Really?" The Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north.

"Oh, indeed! I remember when Edward was very young. His hair was a lighter shade than my nephew's is, though. He had hair the same colour as my sister, but his hair was always curly and his eyes were just like that! I swear – Edward will never be dead to my sister and I with your son around." Robert smiled.

"My, isn't that interesting?" The Sheriff mused, nodding his head.

"Oh, don't get me wrong – he is your son indeed. He looks very much like you, but oddly, I see a lot of my brother in him too." Robert remarked.

The Sheriff always found it fascinating when he noticed family resemblances because he had no family to compare himself to besides Guy, but the two of them looked nothing alike. He'd especially found it intriguing the more he was becoming acquainted with his soon to be brother in law because the similarities between Rhiannon and Robert were astonishing to him. Any fool could see they were siblings! He wished he had figured it out on his own. He sometimes felt foolish that he hadn't, especially once he had seen them standing beside each other in the dining hall on Thursday evening. For awhile he couldn't stop staring at them. They seemed to have similar personalities as well, despite their six year absence from each other.

Occasionally, the Sheriff would think of his brother. He never saw the lad and if he had he doubted he would have remembered anyway, but he often wondered if the child had lived, would his brother have looked much like him? Would he have been similar in characteristics?

"Nottingham?" Robert asked, bewildered by the Sheriff's sudden quiet manner.

"Forgive me. I was just thinking of something. Where is he?" The Sheriff asked.

"He is with my lady Isabelle in his room. Well, I guess it's your cousin's chamber, but it is like his chamber now." Robert said.

"Indeed. Well, he better not get too used to it." The Sheriff smirked.

Robert led him up the stairs to Guy's chamber. The Sheriff stood in the threshold a moment looking upon his son. The boy was seated upon a fur throw on the floor holding a small wooden rattle in his hand as he smiled. The child shook it, then put it in his mouth and grinned up at his aunt.

The Sheriff grinned. Robert was right. The child was a delightful little lad indeed. His hair was now almost raven black like his father's, and so curly it was nearly in ringlets and fell to his shoulders. He wore a long, navy blue velvet gown. His eyes were just like his mother's and his cheeks grew rosier in colour as he began to giggle.

"Now, now, you mustn't chew on that, little one!" Lady Isabelle smiled as she went to the child and picked him up.

"Izzy!" The boy cried out playfully. He grabbed Isabelle's golden locks and brought them to his mouth.

"Aye, lad. Auntie Izzy! Soon you shall be speaking in sentences!" Isabelle smiled as she held him out and twirled around with him. The child giggled in excitement. She certainly had a way with children, the Sheriff noted.

"Did my son just… speak?" The Sheriff exclaimed, incredulous.

Isabelle looked to her left, startled a moment to see him there. "Aye, milord. Lady Margaret reports he started doing that just recently." Lady Isabelle replied.

"His hair needs to be cut!" The Sheriff huffed.

The child looked to his right toward the doorway at the sound of his father's voice.

"Oh!" The child uttered. He smiled and clapped his hands.

The Sheriff's eyes widened. He swallowed. "My son! You know me!" He exclaimed as he went swiftly to the boy.

Isabelle handed the boy to him and the Sheriff held him in his arms and lifted him up to get a good look at him. "Oh, my son. Look at you! My, you've grown!" The Sheriff exclaimed. He looked to Robert and frowned. "Seriously, his hair is too long! He shall look like a little lass! See that his hair is cut!" The Sheriff snapped.

"Why, it's the same length as yours is, Nottingham! He looks like you – what's the problem?" Robert grinned wickedly.

The child leaned forward and grabbed his father's hair and began to chew on it.

"What in the devil is he doing?" The Sheriff asked Lady Isabelle, as his eyebrow shot north.

"He's teething, milord. He chews on everything." Lady Isabelle smiled.

"I see." The Sheriff sighed. He looked down to the floor and noted the wooden rattle and a curious, small wooden horse. "Where did the toys come from?" The Sheriff asked. "I should like to thank whomever thought of it." He said.

"Then you should thank your cousin." Robert said.

"What?" The Sheriff asked, incredulous.

"He crafted the toys himself. Did you know he was a carpenter, Nottingham? He made the cradle as well, and another item that waits in the barn, but your son is too small for it yet." Robert explained.

"What is that?" The Sheriff asked.

"There is a wooden rocking horse waiting in the barn. Your cousin is quite talented indeed. "Robert grinned.

"Yes. I had forgotten he was skilled with carpentry. He learned the craft when he was a lad." The Sheriff said.

He nodded to Robert and Isabelle and the two left the chamber to grant the Sheriff time with his son. The Sheriff went to the chair near the window and sat the boy in his lap.

"Ah!" The infant exclaimed as he looked up into his father's warm amber eyes.

"It won't be long now, my son. Your place is with me in the castle. You shall know your mother soon, my son." The Sheriff smiled.

The child began to play with the laces on the Sheriff's doublet and put them in his mouth, curiously.

"Oh, my boy, you're quite remarkable, aren't you? Wait until your mother meets you. That shall be one of the happiest days of my life – when we are all together at last!" The Sheriff smiled.

He held his son to him and closed his eyes. He realized he always felt the most perfect peace come over him whenever he held his boy in his arms. The child had always seemed content to be held by his father. In fact, the Sheriff realized he had never heard his son cry. He couldn't believe how the simple act of holding his child could make him forget about everything that troubled him.

Suddenly he was excited at the thought of the other child coming. He never knew that children could be such a delight. Maybe it was because this boy was _**his**_ child that he had so much tolerance? He didn't know and he didn't really care. He realized he had so much to thank his lady for. She had given him a family.

"My son, I have the most wonderful news!" The Sheriff exclaimed as he held the boy out and looked upon him.

"Oh!" The boy laughed.

"Yes, my son! Now, listen to me – you shall have a little brother or sister! Isn't that marvelous? Now, don't tell mother I told you. She might not like that. It shall be our secret." The Sheriff grinned.

Later he stood out in the barn with Robert. He was interested to see the rocking horse that Guy had made for the boy. The Sheriff agreed that it was a finely crafted piece of work.

"I'm not sure how long I shall need your wife's assistance." The Sheriff began. "I am leaving for Portsmouth tomorrow. It is an important matter and I shall be home by Saturday at the latest. My lady understands and has agreed to follow the advice of the physician and the midwife, but I'm not sure how long Lady Margaret will need to stay." The Sheriff explained.

"I see. Well, what would you like me to do? I'll return to the armoury if you wish." Robert suggested.

"No. You can stay here until I return unless you want to go back." The Sheriff said.

"I was just thinking of my sister. She was asking a lot of questions yesterday. I tried to tell her it was very busy in the armoury and I wouldn't be able to see her for a few days. Naturally, she was very suspicious." Robert said with his eyebrow quirked.

"Indeed. My lady is curious by nature." Nottingham agreed.

"She has been clever since the day she was born!" Robert huffed as he folded his arms.

"I can imagine." The Sheriff sighed. "Right, well, I shall leave it up to you to decide when to return. Stephanus can manage in the meantime, if you're sure Lady Isabelle won't mind." The Sheriff said.

"I shall speak to my lady about it. Are there any other instructions, Nottingham?" Robert asked.

"Yes. See that my son has his hair cut! Not too short though." The Sheriff said with a deviant grin.


	16. Chapter 71

On Sunday afternoon, Hamon and his henchman, Ancel were sitting by the fire they had recently lit in the clearing. They had managed to locate the former setting where they were sure that Robin of Locksley and his band of merry men had occupied three years prior. There were rumours that after the revolt in the Village Square in ninety four, when Locksley was slain and the rest of his rabble scattered, that the Sheriff, Gisborne, and a number of Nottingham's men had ventured back to the forest and burned down Hood's camp.

So it would seem the rumours were true. For when the men arrived to this location late Saturday afternoon, they indeed found the site. Most of the camp had been destroyed by the fire, but some of it remained intact. There were a few tree huts that were still usable as well as what appeared to be the bunks.

"What is the plan now?" Ancel asked his comrade as he took a sip of mead from his flask. They were seated upon a log by the fire.

"We wait in here for a day, then I must find out how to get near to the Sheriff's lady." Hamon said.

"They know you better than they know me." Ancel pointed out with his eyebrow quirked.

"Hmm. You do have a point for once, Ancel." Hamon mused as he rubbed his chin. "Yes. You will go there and ask some questions. Find out what the Sheriff's lady is up to. Perhaps we can catch her off guard when she ventures from the castle. Surely she's not with him all of the time, and he'll be looking for me anyway." Hamon said.

"Alright. Perhaps I should cut my hair?" Ancel suggested. "Those knights have seen me twice with you."

"Good idea. We'll give it a day. If we proceed now you might risk running into the Sheriff. He may have someone with him who shall recognize you. You'll never find out anything if he is hanging around." Hamon spat. Then he looked to his henchman thoughtfully. "I must say, Ancel, I don't know what you're doing to have developed a brain, but keep it up. It's about time you woke up!" Hamon huffed.

"Indeed." Ancel growled. He didn't know why he was continuing to help his friend with this foolish quest, but he figured he was in far too deep to even remotely hope to escape the Sheriff's wrath. Ancel was sure he had been added to Nottingham's wanted list by now. He sighed. "Very well. Tomorrow I shall begin." Ancel said as he took another swallow of mead from his flask.

* * *

The rain was falling softly outside of the window of the Sheriff's bedchamber on Monday morning. The Sheriff was lying in bed holding his lady to him. He had cancelled everything to free his schedule this morning. The town council meeting was postponed until next week. Nottingham had asked his Scribe to inform the various staff who generally participate in the meeting the day before.

He sighed as he held Rhiannon to him. He desired her but he didn't wish to cause harm to his child. She ran her soft hands along his smooth chest and purred.

"Mmm, my prince. It's a shame you must leave me." Rhiannon sighed.

"And even if I stayed you would have to wait, my lady." The Sheriff said with his eyes narrowed. He swallowed. "Look what happened to you the last time… we –"

Rhiannon sat up and leaned upon her elbow, and quirked her eyebrow at him. "Don't do this, lover. Do not blame yourself." Rhiannon said softly. "It was one of those things – a coincidence." She added.

"Oh, my angel, I cannot help but think that –" He stopped himself again and closed his eyes.

"All is well, my love. Do not worry about me." Lady Rhiannon smiled. She reached up and threaded her fingers through his silky, raven mane, and softly kissed the corner of his perfect mouth. His whiskers tickled her lips.

"Rhiannon…" The Sheriff sighed. He pulled her on top of him and kissed her hungrily. He pushed her long sable tresses away from her face while he did so.

She felt her knees weaken and a warmth come over her. She kissed him longingly then pulled away from him, breathless.

"God, George – do not tell me to wait to touch you until after the child comes in the spring." Rhiannon breathed as she kissed his cheek. "I will wait until our wedding night, although I do have a suggestion." She smiled at him seductively.

"What is that?" The Sheriff asked with a grin.

"Well, I have two actually. The first suggestion is this – if all remains quiet with me, promise me you'll ravish me when you return? I'm sure it will be okay." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"Hmm. I'll think about it." The Sheriff said, suppressing a grin. "And what was the other suggestion?" He asked, curiously.

"There's something I can do for you that shall cause no harm to me. I can give you something to… remember me by." Lady Rhiannon whispered as she kissed him softly. Her hand eased down under his velvet breeches and began to stroke him lightly.

The Sheriff sighed. He was hard for her in an instant. "No, my angel. I would feel strange."

"Lover, you don't need to penetrate me to satisfy me." Lady Rhiannon winked.

"Oh, Rhiannon…" The Sheriff sighed and closed his eyes.

"I want to make you happy." Rhiannon whispered. She began to trail his chest with her soft kisses as she kept moving south, all the while stroking him until he was hard as steel for her.

"You _**do**_ make me happy, lady – in more ways than one." The Sheriff breathed.

It was too late. She had already unlaced his breeches and teased him lightly with her tongue while she continued to stroke him.

"Rhiannon!" The Sheriff gasped. His head thrashed from side to side upon the silk covered, soft down pillow, and he reached down and gently held her head in his hands.

She took him in her mouth and pleased him for the next glorious hour. He felt bliss he never felt before when she willingly let him release inside of her sweet, hot mouth.

* * *

Later that afternoon the Sheriff and his Lieutenant were leading the others as they traveled down the main road that would take them from Nottingham, heading south to Portsmouth. Adam, Mordrid, and the Bishop were some distance behind them, about twenty yards, so the Sheriff seized the opportunity to speak to his cousin privately.

"I saw the toys you made for my son, cousin. Thank you for that. My son especially loves his rattle." The Sheriff smiled.

"You're welcome, cousin. The child needed something to occupy him. I was already making toys for my little girl anyway." Guy grinned.

"You make me laugh, Gis. You're convinced you're going to have a lass!" The Sheriff chortled.

"I cannot describe it, cousin. I've never predicted anything in my life, but I've had a strong feeling since Meridwyn told me she was carrying my child that I was having a daughter. I do not think it – I _**know**_ it." Guy stated firmly.

"It will surely be interesting if you're right." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north. "I have no thoughts about the gender of my child that's on the way. Tell me, cousin – do you?" The Sheriff asked as his eyes narrowed curiously.

"Excuse me?" Guy asked, bewildered.

"Can you tell me if the child Rhiannon is carrying is a boy or a girl? Since you're so good at predicting that of your own child, I thought maybe you could tell me?" The Sheriff said with a deviant grin.

"Well, no, cousin. I have no feeling at all about your child. Sorry." Gisborne said.

"That's too bad, cousin. Oh, well. I do like a surprise!" The Sheriff laughed.

"My little girl already has a name." Guy announced with a smile.

"You're jesting! Aren't you getting ahead of yourself, Gis?" The Sheriff exclaimed, incredulous.

"Oh, it's fun to plan these things, cousin!" Guy laughed. "It was my lady who thought of it. My daughter will be Eve Elizabeth." Guy smiled proudly.

"Eve… your mother's name." The Sheriff said. "Indeed, cousin, 'tis a sweet name for a little lass. If she's anything like your mother was she will be a lovely lady indeedy. Alas, you've just reminded me how I miss my Auntie Evie." The Sheriff sighed. He looked to Guy knowingly as his eyebrow shot north. "Your mother was very kind to me when I was a young lad." A beat. "A shame the two greatest ladies in our family were taken so young, before even we could know them – their sons!" The Sheriff huffed.

"Aye, cousin. Sometimes I wonder if we would have turned out differently if they had lived? I'm glad you could know my mother. I wish I had known her, and my Aunt Aelesia." Guy said. He shook his head. "How did we get on this topic anyway?"

"We were discussing our children." The Sheriff sighed.

"You and I – fathers. It's still a rather perplexing thought, isn't it?" Guy chortled.

"Indeed, Gis, but maybe it will make us better men?" The Sheriff grinned.

"It's true our mothers were great ladies. Now the great ladies in the family are my wife and your wife to be." Guy said as his eyebrow quirked knowingly.

The Sheriff smiled. "Indeed you're right, cousin. Thank Zeus we grabbed them before anyone else did!" He exclaimed as a wicked grin formed. "God, what she _**did**_ for me today." The Sheriff sighed.

"Cousin?" Guy asked, bewildered.

"My lady gave me something to remember her by. She's very clever with the manner in which she uses her tongue." Nottingham smiled.

"You best hope she doesn't have another episode like Saturday, cousin." Guy stated as he narrowed his steel blue eyes upon him.

"I didn't say I took her, Gis! I said that she's very clever with her tongue." The Sheriff grinned. Then his eyebrow shot north as he noticed his cousin still looking at him rather puzzled. "Must I spell it out for you, Gis? She pleased me – but she was left untouched!" The Sheriff remarked with an evil grin.

"Oh, my. That is quite a lady you have there, cousin!" Guy grinned. "I do hope your lady and mine discuss these matters as well. I need Meridwyn to find out about this little trick, but I don't want to be the one to suggest it." Guy sighed.

"Yes, I see what you mean, cousin. Luckily for me, I never had anything to do with it." The Sheriff smiled.

"My! Well, _**that**_ is surely surprising!" Gisborne chortled.

The Sheriff looked at him and shook his head as he urged his equine to move faster. Gisborne kept up the pace alongside him.

"I had nothing to do with it!" The Sheriff spat. "My lady is a gift. I don't know how I got so lucky. I ask myself that all of the time." The Sheriff sighed happily as he thought of his beautiful Rhiannon.

* * *

On Tuesday afternoon Ancel was riding through Nottingham village and decided to stop at the market. He decided he was in no particular hurry, so he found a place to secure his horse. In the morning he had shaved his beard stubble and cut his long, dark brown hair. Hamon exclaimed that he indeed looked like a different person. Ancel smiled as he strolled through the market. The air was chill. He pulled up his hood and held his long black cape about him as he wandered past several vendors and villagers that were gathered there this day.

Suddenly his eyes spotted a pretty lady about twenty feet ahead. His lips upturned in a smirk. It had been too long since he had bedded a maiden. The lady was slender and of medium height. She wore a navy blue gown with a matching cape over it. Her shiny, dark hair was fashioned elegantly in a chignon upon her head and some loose ringlets framed her face.

He slowly walked toward her. "Good day, milady. You shouldn't be wandering about the village unaccompanied." Ancel said.

The lady looked up and quirked her eyebrow. "Not all of us have someone available to accompany us. Not that it's any concern of yours but I am a widow, and now I am employed by the Sheriff's lady." Lady Rebeccah remarked sharply as her eyebrow stayed quirked over her soft brown eyes.

Ancel stiffened. He sighed. "Ah, so you work at Nottingham Castle then?" He asked smoothly. He cast her a seductive smile and burned his gray eyes into hers.

Rebeccah looked up at the tall, attractive man and sighed. It had been so long since a gentleman had shown interest in her. She knew that was the reason she was being careless with her tongue when she tormented herself thinking of this very conversation later. For in the weeks that would follow, Rebeccah would feel guilt for what she said to him during this chance meeting. She would blame herself for what would happen to the Sheriff's lady. Unfortunately, she would only know this in hindsight, thus she continued to be lured by the stranger's charms.

"No. I've never been inside of the castle." Lady Rebeccah said. "I am minding Lady Rhiannon Wordsworth's manor. She is presently staying in the castle." Rebeccah explained.

"Oh. Do you ever take any visitors?" Ancel asked suddenly.

"Milord?" Rebeccah asked.

"If I were to come to call on you. Would that be alright sometime, milady?" Ancel asked as he continued to seduce her.

"I think so." Rebeccah said with her eyebrow quirked.

"What might I call you, lovely lady?" Ancel asked as he kissed her hand.

"I am Rebeccah." She smiled. "And whom might you be?" She asked.

"My name is Aleyn." Ancel lied. He decided to use his deceased brother's name. Better nobody in Nottingham know who he was.

"A pleasure to meet you, Master Aleyn." Rebeccah said.

"Likewise." He smiled. "Tell me – have you heard when their nuptials shall be? I heard the heralds announce the news three days ago, but they never did mention a date." Ancel shrugged.

"I'm told it will be November eleventh." Rebeccah replied. "Hopefully the lady shall be recovered by then." She added. She frowned as she thought of the Sheriff delivering the news yesterday morning. He came by the manor on his way out of town. He said that his lady was recovering from an illness, so Rebeccah shouldn't expect her to come by this week to check on her manor.

"Oh, well that's too bad she is ill." Ancel sighed.

"Why do you care so much?" Rebeccah demanded.

"Well, if you're invited to the wedding then I know I shouldn't bother to call on you on November eleventh." Ancel replied smoothly with a wicked grin.

"Oh!" Rebeccah laughed nervously. "Indeed." She smiled.

"I'll look for you, milady. You've been most helpful. Expect to see me upon the doorstep of this manor you're minding one of these nights." Ancel winked.

* * *

The Sheriff and his men arrived in the coastal town of Portsmouth on the south coast of England on Tuesday, a few hours past midday. The Sheriff and Guy both had a map, but Guy led the Sheriff and the others through the village since he had been to the outlaw's estate before.

It was near dusk when the men arrived at Hamon's estate. The men secured their horses and proceeded to the door. The Bishop stayed behind them for he did not bring a weapon to protect him. The Sheriff turned to Gisborne and his men.

"Draw your swords!" Nottingham ordered them.

His men obeyed and the Sheriff banged on the door of the manor with his fist. He waited a few impatient moments then broke down the door by kicking it in.

"Where are you, you lowly insect!" The Sheriff bellowed as he stormed inside.

He turned to Mordrid and Adam when they stood inside the manor. "You two – up the stairs and search for him. Find me the sodding bastard! Yank him by the little amount of hair left on his pathetic head – and drag his sorry backside down here to me this instant!" The Sheriff demanded as he pointed to the stairs.

"Aye, milord." Mordrid said. He nodded to Adam and the two knights proceeded up the stairs.

Nottingham looked to Gisborne with his eyebrow quirked knowingly. "Let's start looking, Gisborne. Find me the evidence!" The Sheriff commanded.

The Bishop stood with his back against the wall nervously as he observed them begin to tear the room apart with their search.

Adam and Mordrid came down the stairs ten minutes later.

"We found nothing, milord." Adam said. "There are no signs of life up there."

"The two of you take a look around outside the manor then." The Sheriff said firmly.

Gisborne looked over at the Bishop. The Bishop was occupied watching Adam and Mordrid just then on their way out of the door, so Guy took the opportunity to get his cousin's attention. The Sheriff looked over at Guy with his eyebrow quirked. Guy looked over again to the Bishop, he was still not paying attention to them. Guy nodded to the tall bookcase that stood near to a desk by the window.

The Sheriff walked toward the bookshelf and began to pull the dust covered books and transcripts from the shelves and tossed them carelessly to the floor. The dust wafted up from the floor as every one of them landed with a thud. The Bishop began to cough. The Sheriff looked upon him and snarled, and the Bishop looked downcast. The Sheriff went back to his task. He had emptied the top two shelves and looked to Gisborne with his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Gisborne shrugged. Finally, after he pulled some more books from the third shelf, he saw them. The Sheriff grinned deviously as he took the shiny silver pentagram medallion, the double edged dagger, and the book of shadows from the shelf. They had been carefully, and cleverly hidden behind some dusty books and transcripts. He looked to Gisborne as his eyebrow shot north and smiled.

Nottingham took them over to the Bishop and placed Hestia's belongings into the Bishop's hands. "Is this adequate for the proof you seek, your grace?" The Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north knowingly.

The Bishop swallowed as he looked down into his hands. "Aye, milord Sheriff. I do believe this is more than enough evidence to present at the tribunal." The Bishop of Hereford sighed.

"What of that dagger?" The Sheriff asked as he pointed to it in the Bishop's hands. "I've never seen one like that before." He added.

"The witches call it an athame. They use it somehow in their rituals, though I do not know how." The Bishop explained. He looked up to the Sheriff and shuddered. "I do not wish to know, milord." He added with a frown.

"Indeed." The Sheriff snarled. He wondered if Mortianna owned one of those?

"What is the plan now, cousin?" Gisborne asked.

"He should have been here by now if he was telling Luke the truth on Saturday." The Sheriff huffed. He thought of it a moment, and then his eyes widened. "Unless – he was bluffing. He mentioned something to Luke about keeping an eye on my belongings again. What if he's planning to sneak his way into the castle?" A beat. "He's planning to steal my gold!" The Sheriff spat.

"He would never gain entrance, milord, and even if he did and then found his way into one of your vaults he'd never survive. You know that! You have it rigged for several crossbows to fire arrows from every which direction, and it would fill with sand in moments after that!" Gisborne pointed out.

"That is correct, cousin, but I'm almost certain he is still in Nottingham. Now that I think of it, it makes perfect sense." The Sheriff countered. "His exact words to Luke were to tell me I have something I must keep an eye on because he is watching it too! Curses! How can he watch my possessions from here in Portsmouth, Gis? Telling Luke he was on his way back here was a total bluff!" The Sheriff spat as he kicked at the leg of a nearby table.

Adam and Mordrid came back into the manor just then. Mordrid looked to his master and shook his head regretfully.

"Never mind, lads. He's not here!" The Sheriff huffed. He nodded to the items in the Bishop's hands. "We have the evidence we need. Now all we need is the heretic. Our outlaw is still in Nottingham, men. We must get back there and you will be assigned to search every square inch of Nottingham and surrounding areas until you find me this little bastard!" The Sheriff barked.

* * *

At dusk Ancel was back at camp reporting his findings to Hamon.

"Very good, Ancel, but you forgot one tiny thing. Where is the manor?" Hamon spat.

"I'll find it. I'm sure Rebeccah is known through the village, and anyway someone might know where the Sheriff's lady's manor is." Ancel pointed out.

"I'm trusting you'll follow that through." Hamon snarled with his eyebrow quirked. He sighed. "So, the lady is ill, is she? Isn't that too bad." He spat.

"She's probably confined to her bed." Ancel sighed as he folded his arms.

"Well, I cannot risk going in there. There's only two of us but Nottingham has several men guarding the place. Curses! We shall catch the cursed, little bitch on her wedding day, or at her manor!" Hamon seethed. "I think it's time you pay a visit to your little Lady Rebeccah, Ancel. I'm sure Miss Wordsworth visits her manor from time to time to check on it. Aye!" Hamon exclaimed with a wicked grin. "Go there! Find out when the little wretch goes there. We'll catch her there and we'll burn the little bitch and her cursed manor just like that sorry monster of hers did to my sister!" Hamon laughed maniacally.

Ancel looked at him and smirked wickedly. He didn't mind playing along with this part of the plan. Not if it meant he could satisfy his needs with the lovely Rebeccah in the meantime!

* * *

On Wednesday afternoon, Lady Meridwyn entered into the Sheriff's private chambers for a visit with her friend. She found Lady Rhiannon to be seated in the chair by the window. She was wearing a long sleeved lavender shift and was reading a large book.

"Rhiannon! You're supposed to be in your bed!" Lady Meridwyn admonished as she walked toward her.

"Actually, I was granted permission to move about freely by the physician today." Rhiannon smiled.

Lady Meridwyn regarded her with her eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Relax, Meridwyn. I must stay confined to these chambers. I'm only allowed to walk about a little bit as long as I stay off my feet as much as possible. All is well. All is quiet." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"That is good to hear." Meridwyn said.

"Aye, and Luke is stationed outside of the door now. Every cursed minute of the day. I'm sure that was purposely planned by the Sheriff. Don't worry. Looks like I'm stuck in here." Lady Rhiannon sighed.

For some reason she kept having this feeling of deja vous come over her. As if she'd been in similar circumstances before? Held in a room in the same condition she was in now. Sometimes it would come to her in momentary flashes, but she thought she was being ridiculous. It had to be the wine? This was her first child! How could she feel like this had perhaps happened in some other time? Was it a nightmare she was recalling?

Lady Meridwyn moved to the window and gazed out of it. She turned to face Rhiannon. "I wonder where they are now?" She mused.

"They may be on their way home to us." Rhiannon said.

"Indeed." Meridwyn smiled. "And I shall give him the nicest welcome when he arrives." Meridwyn commented absently. She sighed happily as she thought of how she wished to please Guy when he returned to her. She looked up at Rhiannon then coughed nervously. "Oh, sorry, honey. That won't do you any good – my speaking of such things. Since you can't –" She stopped herself then and looked away, embarrassed.

"Can't what?" Rhiannon asked.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be a good idea for you to be intimate with him." Meridwyn said, her eyes downcast.

"I gave my man something to think on before he left me on Monday." Rhiannon smirked.

Meridwyn looked up and narrowed her blue eyes upon her, then folded her arms. "You didn't? You mustn't, Rhiannon! You're asking for trouble!" Meridwyn admonished. "I can't believe he gave in, knowing what could happen to you!"

"Don't worry. He didn't touch me." Lady Rhiannon said matter of factly.

"What? I don't understand?" Meridwyn exclaimed, incredulous. What was she going on about? Meridwyn cursed herself for forgetting to speak to the midwife about the wine treatment.

"Tell me, Meridwyn – have you ever… slowly sucked on a sweet – like toffee, or a piece of fruit to savour it?" Rhiannon asked pointedly with an evil grin.

Meridwyn's eyes widened. "What?" She asked slowly.

"Aye, friend. Imagine it if you will." Lady Rhiannon smiled knowingly. "Trust me. It's not that bad. In fact, it pleases me almost as much as him. I wouldn't do it for any other, believe me." She said firmly.

"And – does he… like it?" Meridwyn asked, curiously.

"Indeed he _**does**_." Rhiannon grinned.

"Hmm. Interesting." Meridwyn muttered as she pondered the idea. She must try this little trick on Guy. She wondered if he would be pleased about it – or insulted? She sighed as she thought of pleasing him. "Damn it, Rhiannon! Now you're going to make me miss my man more than I already am. I was already planning what I would do for him when he returned to me, but I was trying not to think of it too much." Meridwyn huffed.

"I know. It's enough to drive a lady to madness." Rhiannon agreed.

"You know what I miss most about him when he's away, besides the obvious things?" Meridwyn commented to her friend.

Rhiannon shook her head.

"His voice. Oh God, that amazing, gravelly, deep voice of his." Lady Meridwyn sighed and looked up thoughtfully. She glanced back down to her friend. "It just makes me melt, Rhiannon! He can make me putty in his hands sometimes just by whispering to me. He's not always good at it but when he eloquently phrases things on top of that voice of his, I bend to his will every time." Meridwyn smiled.

Rhiannon giggled. "I suppose I shouldn't laugh. It's funny you say that because that's one of the things about George that does it for me too. I love his voice. I think it's like melted chocolate, it's so smooth and seductive. George is very skilled at phrasing things perfectly. Sometimes I think he knows that and that's part of his whole game with me. He knows he can get my attention that way." Rhiannon winked. "There's other things about him that drive me mad about him, but I've already said too much. I'll tell you this though – I'm not letting this child stop me from pleasing my man. I can't have him satisfying his needs elsewhere." Rhiannon said.

"Indeed." Meridwyn agreed. "So, did you find out where the Sheriff was the other day? You never did tell me." Meridwyn asked.

"He said he was with your husband, my brother, and one of his knights. He said he had a matter to take care of." Rhiannon replied.

"Hmm. I wonder if it had anything to do with what Guy took care of, but my husband said the Sheriff sent him, so I assumed Guy went alone?" Lady Meridwyn mused.

"Oh. What was Guy doing?" Rhiannon asked.

"Apparently your man had asked him to deal with a merchant in Nettlestone who was reluctant to relinquish his taxes." Meridwyn explained.

"Well, that sounds like something George would ask of him." Rhiannon said. "Isn't that where your husband's manor is? Nettlestone?" Rhiannon asked.

"Indeed it is. I'm sure it's only a coincidence." Meridwyn said.

"Perhaps." Rhiannon nodded. "Tell me – have you seen Isabelle since Saturday?" She asked.

"No, I haven't. I thought perhaps I would see your brother and Isabelle at mass on Sunday. Especially after the way your brother spoke at dinner last Thursday eve. Oddly – I didn't see them at all?" Meridwyn remarked with a shrug.

"I'm telling you – there is something strange about that." Rhiannon sighed.

"They've only just moved into the castle, Rhiannon. Perhaps your sister in law is finding it strange adjusting to her surroundings? It was only a week ago she stood on the scaffold by order of your betrothed!" Lady Meridwyn pointed out.

"Indeed. I suppose you have a point." Lady Rhiannon nodded.

Still she couldn't help but think there was something very strange going on. She tried to put it out of her mind. In two days time if all goes well, her lover would return to her. She would let him ravish her, and then she would get to the bottom of it!

* * *

On Wednesday just after dusk, Ancel showed up at Lady Rhiannon's manor with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. Lady Rebeccah opened the door and smiled up at him.

"Master Aleyn. You found me, I see." Rebeccah said.

"Indeed, milady. It took a little longer than I thought but here I am. I hope you do not mind." He said.

"No. Not at all. Please come in. I was just having a cup of tea." She said as she beckoned for him to enter.

He walked past the threshold and she closed the door. He passed the flowers to her. "For you, milady Rebeccah." Ancel said smoothly.

"How kind you are." Rebeccah smiled as she took them from him. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?" She asked.

"That would be fine, milady." Ancel said.

She nodded toward the sitting room and he proceeded inside. She took the flowers to another room and found a vase for them. The flowers were placed in water in the vase, and she carried both the vase and a cup when she returned to the sitting room. She set the vase on the mantle above the fireplace and took the cup to the handsome gentleman who came to call on her.

"So, do you live in the village?" Rebeccah asked him as she seated across from him upon a chair.

"No, milady. I'm from the south. I'm only visiting for a time, but who knows? I may decide to stay." He grinned.

She sipped at her tea and smiled. "Yes. You never know." She said.

"I can't believe you are still alone, milady Rebeccah. You're a fair lady indeed." Ancel said. "How long have you been widowed?" He asked.

"Oh, my, many years now. Just over a decade, perhaps twelve years or more. You flatter me, Aleyn." Rebeccah sighed happily.

"It is the truth. Are you alone here most of the time?" He asked. He took a sip of the tea and suppressed the urge to make a face. He would have much preferred mead.

"Much of the time it's just me and the other servants. The lady comes by once a week to check on things usually, though." Rebeccah said.

"Oh. When does she come?" Ancel asked as innocently as he could.

"Usually on Tuesdays. Sometimes she comes on a different day though. Why?" Rebeccah asked pointedly with her eyebrow quirked.

"Well, I would hate to be here visiting you on those days, dear lady. Your lady might not like that you're entertaining… guests." He pointed out as he pierced his gray eyes into hers.

"Oh, yes. Indeed you're right." Rebeccah smiled.

Ancel finished the tea then arose from his chair.

"I mustn't keep you, milady. You were very kind to offer the tea but I don't wish to overstay my welcome." He smiled warmly at her.

"It is no trouble, milord." Rebeccah grinned.

"May I come to call upon you again, Rebeccah?" He asked.

"Aye, Master Aleyn. That would be fine." Rebeccah smiled.

He sighed. He stood at the door a moment as he bid Rebeccah farewell.

"Thank you for coming." She smiled.

"It was my pleasure, my lovely Rebeccah." Ancel smiled seductively.

She looked up at him and sighed at the way he spoke her name just now. He leaned down to her and slowly, softly, kissed her lips. She let him kiss her and willingly kissed him back. It had been too long since a man had touched her. She had forgotten how pleasing a kiss could be with a dangerously handsome man.

Ancel smiled when he was walking toward his horse. Rebeccah was being very forthcoming with him. Hamon would be pleased with the information he had gathered indeed. Then he shook his head and sighed. Rebeccah was a very attractive lady indeed. He desired her. He wished to God she wasn't associated with the Sheriff's lady. He was still deciding if he would touch her or not. She seemed just as infatuated with him as he was with her. Indeed, he certainly found her to be very pleasing. It was such a shame. Ancel took a breath and frowned. Too bad lovely, Lady Rebeccah would likely have to die along with Lady Rhiannon.


	17. Chapter 72

It was nearing moonrise Wednesday when Ancel was back at camp in Sherwood Forest reporting to Hamon.

"I was told the Sheriff's lady visits her manor on Tuesdays, though occasionally she comes on a different day." Ancel said.

"Oh, that is good, Ancel!" Hamon sneered as he rubbed his palms together. "We'll keep an eye on that manor of hers and when she shows up – we got her!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"Indeed." Ancel agreed.

"See what else you can find out. This lady servant of hers is proving very valuable indeed." Hamon grinned.

"Oh, indeed she is." Ancel smirked wickedly.

"What is that look for?" Hamon asked curiously.

"It is nothing." Ancel shrugged.

"Good. Know your boundaries, Ancel. You're gathering information from this maiden. Do what you must to get her to talk, but do not have any illusions about her! This cannot go anywhere with her." Hamon said firmly. He sighed and folded his arms. "You do know she will die along with that cursed little bitch who employs her?" Hamon pointed out as his eyebrow quirked knowingly.

"Aye." Ancel sighed. "I am no fool."

"Good. You seduce her all you want. Just remember what I said!" Hamon spat.

* * *

On Friday at dusk, ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn were dining together in the Sheriff's den. Rhiannon couldn't leave the chamber so Lady Meridwyn asked for the chef to send her tray to the Sheriff's chambers. There was no use in both of them dining alone.

"Well, it looks like our men won't be joining us today, Rhiannon. I thought we'd see them by now if today was the day they would return." Meridwyn sighed.

"Indeed, Meridwyn." Rhiannon frowned. "I had hoped they would have been here by now but I suppose we shall have to wait another day." She lamented.

"I hate it when they must leave on a mission, but you know how it is." Meridwyn sighed.

"Aye." Rhiannon smiled. "They will return. They always do. This is how it must be when you're the lady to the most important man about town." Rhiannon winked as she repeated Meridwyn's usual mantra.

"You catch on fast, honey." Meridwyn smiled as she took a bite of venison pie. "I'm glad I thought of requesting this of the chef this morning. I've been craving these venison pies ever since we had it last Thursday." Meridwyn remarked as she savoured the taste of it upon her tongue.

"Oh, indeed you're right, Meridwyn. That reminds me, I must speak to Jean Louis and ask him to prepare these for the wedding feast. George already agreed it would be a fine dish to serve then." Rhiannon said.

"Yes, I'm sure your guests will love it!" Meridwyn exclaimed. She took a sip of wine from her goblet and took a breath before she continued with another topic. "I've decided to try that little trick of yours on my husband when he returns." Lady Meridwyn said slowly as her eyebrow quirked.

"Oh, he will love it." Rhiannon smirked.

"Really, Rhiannon? I must say, I'm a little nervous about it." Meridwyn admitted as her face flushed slightly.

"You mustn't be, Meridwyn. Guy loves you. He will be delighted that you wish to please him, I'm sure." Rhiannon smiled as she took a sip of her wine.

"I hope you're right." Meridwyn sighed.

Rhiannon smiled and looked to her right toward the window and gazed out of it a moment. She hoped her lover would be home soon. How she missed the touch of her dark prince.

* * *

Later that evening the Sheriff was entering into the private chambers. He was pleased when Luke reported that Lady Rhiannon had remained in the chamber since Monday. He hoped his lady would still be awake. He opened the doors to his bedchamber. There were a few candles burning on the tables inside there. They cast a glow upon his lady's perfectly flawless skin. He sighed. The corners of his mustache curled as a sensuous grin formed.

Rhiannon was lying on her side holding his pillow to her. The silk linens were at the level of her waist. She was wearing the black silk nightdress he liked on her that was embellished in pale pink ribbons. She always looked beautiful in it. It did something to the shape of her breasts, but now that her breasts were altered – in a good way, the gown made her look even more appealing. He licked his lips at the sight of her in sweet repose. He took off his gauntlets and removed his surcoat and placed them both upon a chair. He slowly went to the bed.

Lady Rhiannon looked quite serene as she lay there holding his pillow to her. When he got to the bedside she startled him when she began to murmur softly, almost inaudibly in her sleep.

"George… come back… to me…" Lady Rhiannon breathed as she moved her hand slowly down the silk covered down pillow.

The Sheriff smiled and reached down with his right hand to softly caress her left cheek, then his hand moved down to her neck. She subconsciously turned to her right toward him and lay supine before him. He leaned down to her and began to kiss her soft lips, feather light. He lingered there until he knew she was awake.

Finally, her eyes opened. At first Lady Rhiannon was startled, but soon she was beaming at him.

"You're back!" Rhiannon squealed with delight. "Am I dreaming?" She threw her arms about his neck and brought him to her and kissed him softly.

"Yes, my love, I am here. And, no, you are _**not**_ dreaming." The Sheriff smiled. _I am truly the luckiest man in England. _He sighed.

Rhiannon sat up. "What do you need? You must need sustenance? Something to drink? Perhaps I could ask the servants to bring forth a tray for you? Or rest? You must be exhausted after all of that riding." Rhiannon suggested as she caressed his cheek, then threaded her fingers through his hair. She bit her lip. She thought her lover was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Nothing had changed her opinion of that over time.

Nottingham pulled his lady close to him. "I am fed and well rested, beautiful. There is only _**one**_ thing I need." The Sheriff growled in her ear as he began to kiss her neck. Then he moved to her lips and kissed her slowly and passionately.

"Then you had better come to bed, my sweet prince." Lady Rhiannon purred. "Get in here!" She demanded. She grabbed him by his leather doublet and pulled him toward her for another deep and passionate kiss before she released him, both of them breathless.

Nottingham straightened up and slowly moved to the other side of the bed. She licked her lips as she watched him move. He slowly unfastened his doublet and removed it, then he took off his tunic. His garments were carelessly cast to the floor. When he arrived at the other side of the bed he kicked off his boots, untied his codpiece and tossed it to the floor, then joined his lady in his bed.

She leaned over and stroked his chest. "You sure you're not tired, my love?" She asked.

"Oh, my angel." He whispered. "Quite the opposite. It is you I worry about, but it doesn't matter because… we shouldn't." The Sheriff sighed as he put his arm around her and held her to him.

"My love, all has been well since you left. In fact, for almost a week now." Lady Rhiannon smiled as she kissed him softly and teased his tongue with hers.

The Sheriff sighed. He was so hard for her. "Are you sure, my angel?" He breathed as he kissed her.

"Yes, my prince. I wouldn't lie about that. You know how I want your child." She said.

"I want you, Rhiannon. I want to ravish you until we both collapse from exhaustion!" He breathed hungrily in her ear. "But, I'd never forgive myself if – "

"Shh." She whispered as she put her fingers to his lips. He grabbed her hand and sucked on her fingers, kissing them softly. She sighed. "It will be okay, my love. Take me." Rhiannon pleaded. "I have missed you, George!" She breathed as she kissed him longingly.

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff sighed. "I've missed you too, beautiful. Are you absolutely sure?" He asked her once more.

"Yes, sugar." She purred as she moved her hand down and stroked him through the leather of his breeches. "My love, you forgot to remove your breeches." She said with her eyebrow quirked knowingly.

"I didn't forget, lady. I like it better when _**you**_ take them off me!" The Sheriff grinned wickedly.

"Mmm. Then I had better do something about that." Rhiannon grinned.

* * *

Guy of Gisborne found his lady sitting up upon the bed reading a large manuscript bound in leather. The title of it read "Lancelot – a Tale written by Chretien de Troyes". He took his leather gauntlets off and threw them upon a table.

She looked up and gasped.

"Oh, lover, you've returned to me!" Meridwyn shrieked with glee.

She put the book down beside her and arose from the bed. She went to her husband and threw her arms around him. He pulled her to him and kissed her lips hard.

"I've missed you lady." Gisborne breathed.

She sighed at the sound of his voice in her ear. "Oh, Guy. I've missed you too." Lady Meridwyn whispered as she kissed him.

"What were you reading, my love?" He asked as he nodded to the large book upon the bed.

"Rhiannon suggested I read it. It came from your cousin's library." Meridwyn said.

"I see." Gisborne smiled.

"I had to do something to occupy my time while you were away." Meridwyn said. She eyed him up and down. "You're wearing too many clothes." She winked. She slowly unfastened the sash that held her ivory silk dressing gown closed, then opened her gown. She was naked underneath.

"Oh, Meridwyn." Gisborne sighed.

She slowly removed his surcoat and his tunic. He pulled her to him and kissed her hungrily as his hands moved to her breasts and kneaded them.

"Indeed I _**have**_ missed you, lover." Meridwyn purred as she softly kissed him. "Allow me to show you how much." She winked.

Then she knelt before him and slowly untied his codpiece and cast it aside. Next she unlaced his breeches and pried the edges open, the suede leather grazed his skin. Gisborne sighed as he watched her. She took him in her hand then moved her sweet lips toward him and took him completely in her mouth.

He felt ecstasy he'd never known as his beautiful wife continued to please him.

* * *

Lady Rhiannon murmured softly as the Sheriff moved slowly inside of her. She wrapped her velvet smooth thighs around his waist and pulled him down to her.

"Oh, my sweet prince. I _**love**_ the way you love me." Lady Rhiannon breathed.

"I don't deserve you, lady." The Sheriff whispered as he kissed her.

"Oh, yes you do, George." A beat. "We deserve us." Lady Rhiannon sighed as she tickled his earlobe with her tongue.

Nottingham closed his eyes and gasped. She was driving him mad! Then she did something that made him almost as crazy as when she pleased him with her talented tongue, though some would think it was innocent enough. She leaned in and bit his shoulder lightly.

"Oh, God, lady – what you do to me!" Nottingham said in a raw whisper as he bent down and kissed her neck.

Then he looked into her eyes while he blissfully moved inside of her. She could get lost in those fiery depths. Indeed his eyes were burning like fiery torches for her as he bore into her eyes. Rhiannon swallowed and bit her lip. She reached up with her hands and brought his face down to her. She kissed his cheek then traveled down his jaw line with her lips. Nottingham's soft, black whiskers grazed her skin. She moved toward his perfect lips. Their lips were so close they could feel each other's hot breath upon them when she spoke.

"I love you so… George." She breathed.

"My angel, I know. I love you too… my Lady Nottingham." The Sheriff whispered then kissed her lips softly.

* * *

On the morning of Saturday October eleventh, the Sheriff arranged to meet with his Lieutenant, his Captain of the Black Knights, and some of his men in the Council Quarters. Gisborne was the first to arrive. He strolled into the chamber with a stupid grin spread across his face. Nottingham quirked his eyebrow as he regarded him.

"What the hell happened to you?" The Sheriff asked, shaking his head slowly. "Did somebody give you a good lot of gold or something?"

"No, but I think our ladies had a little chat." Gisborne replied with a knowing grin.

"What do you mean, Gis?" The Sheriff asked as he narrowed his eyes. He was too focused on what he had to tell his men to think of anything else.

"I think your lady must have told mine about that clever little trick of hers you told me about. You know the one, cousin?" Guy reminded him as he quirked his eyebrow.

The Sheriff grinned deviously. "Oh. Yes, cousin. Well, good for you!" The Sheriff remarked as he slapped him on the back. "If she is nearly as talented as my lady is, you shall be a very happy man, indeedy!" The Sheriff grinned.

"Oh, I can see what all the fuss is about, cousin." Gisborne agreed.

"Indeed. Aren't we lucky men, cousin? We have perfect noblewomen who are great ladies indeed – but they don't mind being our little sluts when we need them to be!" The Sheriff laughed.

Gisborne chuckled. "Aye, cousin. Very lucky indeed." He smiled.

Just then Duke Farnsworth opened the door. Officers Mordrid, Luke, and Adam followed behind him along with Gisborne's men, Gerad and Alex. The men moved toward their master. The Sheriff moved from around the table and faced the group of them as he clasped his hands together.

"As most of you know, the mission in Portsmouth wasn't completely successful. We have obtained the evidence we need to charge him with heresy, but the cursed infidel is still at large!" The Sheriff huffed as he folded his arms.

"What is your plan, milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked as he rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

The Sheriff grinned at him, then looked over to Luke. "Luke, I thought about what you told me of his warning when he had the audacity to show up here a week ago! The cursed little insect is still in Nottingham or near to it. He pretty well spelled it out to you in his message!" The Sheriff spat.

"Milord?" Luke asked.

"He said he is watching my belongings or something to that effect – am I right? How can he watch them in Portsmouth, Luke?" The Sheriff pointed out as his eyebrow shot north.

"Hmm. You have a point, sir." Luke nodded.

"Indeed I do, and as usual – a very _**good**_ point." The Sheriff snarled. He cleared his throat and looked to the group. "Starting today, the lot of you along with Gisborne shall begin to spend your days scouring Nottingham and the surrounding villages until you find me the cursed, sodding bastard and his foolishly misguided henchman!" The Sheriff snapped. "I want every inch within a hundred mile radius of this town torn apart until you find the pudgy, stubby, little insect!" The Sheriff ordered them.

Gisborne grinned and looked downcast at the Sheriff's choice of adjectives to describe Homely Hamon.

Luke and Adam looked at each other and cast knowing, satisfied smiles to each other. They were quite pleased they had been asked to join in this mission. The Sheriff noticed them engaged in their own private exchange and cleared his throat. They looked back at him then both looked downcast, embarrassed they were caught not paying attention to him.

The Sheriff moved slowly toward them and stood before them. His Officers look up at him.

"Luke and Adam, I am sending you lads because you have both seen the outlaw and his henchman. My Lieutenant has also seen the outlaw I'm after. This shall be useful should you divide in groups – to make further use of your resources." The Sheriff added as he looked to his Lieutenant and his Captain, knowingly.

"Aye, cousin. We shall do our very best to find him." Gisborne nodded.

"We shall not fail you, milord." The Duke said, unmoving.

"Good. Drake and… what's his name shall continue to man the portcullis." The Sheriff said, then he looked to Gisborne. "Your orders are the same as three years ago when I asked you and your men to find me Locksley. From dawn until dusk you and the Duke shall lead the men on this mission. You are to report to me every night." The Sheriff said as he folded his arms.

"Very well." Gisborne said.

"Now go. Find me the heretic and bring him to me!" The Sheriff ordered his men as he pointed to the door.

* * *

Mortianna was troubled. She was pacing the floor of her apothecary in front of her cauldron. She had debated for a number of hours whether or not to summon her master. In the afternoon while she was working on the recipe for Byzantine fire – a form of alchemy she had laboured on for years to perfect, she saw a vision in the crystal ball she had recently bought from the privately run shop where she obtained her implements.

In was then, late Saturday night when the Sheriff's counsel pulled the cord that attached to the tiny bells upon the wall of her masters den, to summon him.

The Sheriff arrived in moments. He opened the creaking door at the foot of the long, winding, stone staircase and Mortianna stood right there waiting for him. He knew right away the matter was urgent.

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes upon his counsel. For indeed the crone appeared troubled.

"What is it, madam?" The Sheriff asked.

"I need to speak to you, child. Come in and sit." The witch said. She beckoned for him to enter by motioning with her gnarled hand.

The Sheriff followed her inside and seated himself upon the wooden chair at the small wooden table in her apothecary.

"Let's hear it. What portents do you wish to impart to me?" The Sheriff asked.

"I saw a disturbing vision today, milord, but I don't know what to make of it. I cannot really predict the outcome." A beat. "I saw someone we both know. They were in grave danger." Mortianna announced as she wrung her hands in her skirts and looked downcast.

The Sheriff felt rather sick. The witch didn't care for too many people, but she indeed seemed quite troubled by this vision. "Tell me, Mortianna – whom do you refer to?" The Sheriff asked slowly.

Mortianna looked up at him slowly and took a deep breath. "Your lady." Mortianna replied somberly.

The Sheriff's eyes widened in horror. He shook his head. "The child! It's the child my lady carries isn't it?" The Sheriff gasped. "Is something going to happen to my lady and my child?" The Sheriff demanded.

Mortianna shook her head and sighed. "That's the thing about it, child. What I saw in the vision only involved Lady Rhiannon. There was no infant in this vision. I couldn't begin to predict what shall happen with your child, nor can I even predict what shall happen with your lady!" Mortianna exclaimed. She wondered if it was because she was a bit fond of the maiden that she was unable to use her keen third eye to see what will happen in this matter?

"What do you mean?" The Sheriff asked.

"I saw fire. A lot of fire. And I saw your lady in the midst of it. She was alive. I did not see her death, but then the vision was gone – just as quickly as it came to me." Mortianna said.

The Sheriff shook his head. "Did you see anyone with her in this vision?"

"I think there might have been another maiden with her. I only saw it for a fleeting moment. If there was I can tell you I did not recognize the other one." Mortianna stated.

"Could you see where they were? What was burning in this vision of yours?" The Sheriff asked pointedly.

"I'm not sure, milord. I think it was someone's home." Mortianna shrugged.

"Hmm. But you cannot tell me… if…" His words trailed off as he looked downcast.

"No, child. I cannot tell you whether this fire shall be the demise of her. I debated whether to tell you, but perhaps it is better if you know." The witch said.

"Indeed. I shall take precautions, I can tell you that!" The Sheriff said firmly.

"Milord?"

"I will do it. I shall try to keep her in the castle." The Sheriff said, unblinking. "You say it didn't appear she was in a part of the castle?" He asked.

"It didn't look familiar to me, but there was so much fire and smoke I'm sure I wouldn't have recognized it anyway." The witch replied evasively.

"You said it looked like someone's home before." The Sheriff said with his eyebrow quirked.

"Aye. That is what my initial instinct was." Mortianna nodded.

"Then technically – if I keep her in the castle she shall not come to harm." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north.

"Perhaps, child, but you cannot keep your lady held inside the castle forever." Mortianna pointed out.

"Well, I can for now. I have very good reason to keep her confined. It was only a week ago that Lady Rhiannon nearly lost the child. I'm sure she won't be permitted to go riding or venture very far after that episode." The Sheriff smirked knowingly. "I'm told she's been permitted to move about the chambers. I'm going to speak to Thomas about it. If he had any plans to tell her she could step outside the chamber door, I shall put a stop to it." Nottingham said firmly, folding his arms.

"I see, milord." Mortianna sighed. "You do know you may not be able to prevent what I saw in the vision no matter your actions?" The witch pointed out as her eyebrow quirked.

"I can damn well try!" The Sheriff huffed. He sighed. "Do you ever see the same vision more than once?" He asked curiously.

"Sometimes." Mortianna nodded.

"Pay attention the next time you see this vision, illusion, or whatever it is of yours again. Try very hard to take in as much detail as you can and then report to me immediately." The Sheriff instructed.

"Very well, milord." Mortianna said.

* * *

The Sheriff spoke with his physician following mass on Sunday. He entered into the private chamber to inform his lady that the medicus was there to see her. He found her sitting up in the bed reading a new book. It was a large, leather bound manuscript by the same author as her last book. The title read: "Erec and Enide – a Tale written by Chretien de Troyes."

"Ah, a new book, I see?" The Sheriff commented as he nodded to the book she held up in her lap.

"Yes, my prince. I finished the other one and loaned it to Meridwyn. Lady Margaret brought this to me when I finished the first one." Rhiannon said.

"Aren't you reading them in the wrong order though? Kind of… backwards?" The Sheriff pointed out.

"Aye. It's true the character of Lancelot was first introduced in this book." Rhiannon explained as she nodded to the manuscript. "But it really doesn't matter with these two books." Rhiannon smiled.

"Hmm." Nottingham grinned. He moved to the bed and sat down beside her. "So, what did you do with the proclamation then? You know – the one that you kept in the back of the other book?" The Sheriff teased.

She quirked her eyebrow knowingly at him and reached to the back of the book she held in her lap. She fiddled a moment and then extracted the proclamation. "Why, it's right here, my lord!" She exclaimed.

The Sheriff grinned and shook his head.

"I was thinking… whomever the artist was who created this was talented indeed. He perfectly captured my brother!" Rhiannon exclaimed as she looked once more upon it.

"It was my Officer, Richard who drew the image originally, but I had it reproduced here in Nottingham." The Sheriff explained. "So, what exactly were you thinking?" He asked.

"I was thinking I would like to ask your knight to draw you." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"What?" The Sheriff asked, stunned. He wasn't certain if he felt horrified or flattered?

"My love, it is your image I wish to look upon during those times you cannot be with me. Sometimes you're gone for days and days on missions. It was nice to have a drawing of my brother, but you must understand – I thought he was dead. And anyway, he is my brother!" Rhiannon said, shaking her head. "I'm telling you – your knight is very talented. I dare say if the King knew of his gifts, your Officer could make a better wage using his talent than working for you." Lady Rhiannon grinned. "If I were you, I'd make use of him." A beat. "Why don't you consider it your wedding gift to me?" She suggested.

"What – you want me to sit still for him for how ever many hours it will take so he can draw a likeness of me?" The Sheriff asked with a shudder.

"Well… yes! What's wrong with that?"

"My love, I think it's quite remarkable that you wish to have a drawing of my likeness, but I'm really not afforded the time to sit idle." The Sheriff pointed out.

"Not even for me?" Rhiannon pouted as she fluttered her long dark lashes at him.

The Sheriff sighed. "I'll ask my Officer what is required for him to achieve this. If I must spend my entire day posing for him, I can tell you I might not be able to fit that in for awhile." The Sheriff explained.

"Very well." Rhiannon sighed. "Just talk to him about it, won't you?" She implored him.

"I will, my angel." The Sheriff smiled. _Curses! Why did it have to be Richard? He won't be able to do it – he's guarding my son!_ He sighed and shook his head. "Right. You almost made me forgot what I was here to tell you." The Sheriff said.

"What is it, George?" Rhiannon asked.

"The physician is just outside the doors, my angel, waiting in the den. He is here to speak with you." The Sheriff said.

"Oh, I see. Alright. Well, let him in. Everything has been fine for eight days now, so there shouldn't be a problem." Rhiannon smiled.

"Indeed." The Sheriff said.

He went to the doors and opened them. He beckoned for the physician to come forward. Thomas walked to the bedside and looked down upon Lady Rhiannon. The Sheriff stood beside Thomas.

"It's the same news as yesterday, Thomas. The pain has not returned. It's been eight days now." Rhiannon said.

"That is good, milady. Now I would like to wean you from the wine gradually and see how you respond to that." Thomas smiled.

"I see. So, does that mean I must still stay within these chambers?" She asked pointedly.

"Yes." Thomas replied then looked downcast. It was true he would have recommended it anyway while weaning her from the wine, but he still didn't understand the Sheriff's reasons for wishing to keep his lady confined as long as possible. Thomas looked up at her slowly. "I need to be certain while you're being weaned from it, and for a time once the treatment is discontinued that ye shall continue to respond favourably." The physician explained.

"How long will this process take?" Lady Rhiannon asked.

"For the next three days you shall only receive two measures of wine in a day, then for the following two days you will have one measure, and then we shall continue to observe." Thomas said.

"So on Friday I will not be given wine?" She asked.

"Aye. That is correct, milady." Thomas nodded. He looked to the Sheriff. "I've spoken to Lady Margaret and she's agreeable to stay as long as you need her, so you shall have us both available while we try this." Thomas suggested.

"Yes, I would feel better if you're both nearby until we know this will work." The Sheriff nodded.

Rhiannon sighed and folded her arms. "Well it better work because I am _**not**_ getting married in this chamber!" She huffed.

"I am sure in a month's time all will be well, milady. Now, you mustn't excite yourself over these matters or you shall put yourself at risk of another occurrence like last week." Thomas stated firmly as he folded his arms.

"Oh, alright." Rhiannon sighed.

"Let's get you through this week and we'll talk again then." The physician said as he quirked his eyebrow.

"Yes, Master Crumwell. If you think it's best, I shall comply." She smiled weakly.

The Sheriff smiled. He folded his arms and looked downcast. This was turning out to be much easier than he thought it would be!

After Thomas left, the Sheriff sat back down upon the bed beside her.

"My lady, there was one more thing I wanted to tell you. Actually, it's a request." The Sheriff said.

"What is it, my love?" She asked. He suddenly appeared quite serious.

"Once this is over and you're permitted outside of the chambers, promise me that if you have any plans to visit anyone's home including your own that you will tell me?" The Sheriff implored her. He suddenly put his hands upon either side of her face.

"George?" Rhiannon asked as she searched his eyes with hers.

"Promise me, Rhiannon!" Nottingham said sharply.

"Alright. I will tell you if I plan to visit someone's home." Rhiannon said slowly, still rather bewildered. She stared at him strangely.

"And your manor too!" The Sheriff stated firmly.

"George, what is going on?" Rhiannon demanded.

He stared into her eyes a moment, then he took his hands from her face and looked downcast. He exhaled an audible sigh then began to respond to her. "I cannot explain it to you, Rhiannon." The Sheriff said softly as he slowly looked up at her. "I just need you to trust me. I know you visit your manor each week. I would feel better if you were granted protection from now on when you visit. I shall accompany you, and if I cannot I'd prefer you remain at the castle. So, from now on you will tell me where you're going at all times – once the physician allows you out of these chambers, that is." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow quirked.

"George, this isn't like you?" Rhiannon said, shaking her head.

"Believe me, lady. You must believe in me." The Sheriff implored her. He grabbed her suddenly and held her in a tight embrace so that she could scarcely breathe.

Rhiannon was troubled by his behaviour. He seemed quite disturbed by something.

"It is to keep you safe, my angel. Believe me, my lady – this is _**not**_ punishment. It is an act of love, and that's all I can say about it." The Sheriff said softly as he smoothed her hair.

"I'm sure, my prince." Rhiannon sighed as she held him.

He was certainly confusing her. For one of the first times ever – he was frightening her in this moment.


	18. Chapter 73

Monday, October thirteenth, Derbyshire…

Mistress Celestria smiled to herself as she eased her horse over the hilly, rocky path she was taking on her way back to Nottingham. She felt she had enough of the items she would need to achieve the results she was seeking.

There was someone she knew back in her hometown of Castleton whom she decided to consult about the matter, after she realized her grave mistake from just over a fortnight ago. Celestria thought about it all that night after she left Nottingham Castle. She knew there was only one thing to do to save her. She had to somehow feign that she was with child – but how? And then on Thursday morning, only hours after she had tricked the Sheriff by tainting his brandy with the potion, the thought came to her and she made her choice.

What had he said to her when he was sending her away in the middle of the night? Celestria thought about it a few moments, then it came to her. She frowned. She could hear his voice echoing as sternly in her mind now as he sounded to her then when he uttered the words: _"… if I ever find you tried to trick me, you shall die. I can't promise you anything, but I can promise you __**that**__." _She remembered it took all of the will she could summon to nod at him and maintain her composure, for she was certain she felt the colour leave her face only a moment later when she closed the door of his chambers behind her.

So, when she made it to her family's home in Castleton, she arranged a visit with the lady in the neighbouring manor who kept to herself somewhat but had always been kind to Celestria. Lady Gunilda had known Celestria for years – most of Celestria's life, in fact. Celestria always knew the lady was a little different than most other ladies in the village. It was four years ago that Lady Gunilda confided in her that she dappled in black magick and alchemy.

Celestria went to see her just last week. She quickly explained her situation to the attractive, middle aged, raven haired lady. Lady Gunilda was quite beautiful. Celestria always wondered why she was not married, but perhaps it was because she frightened her suitors away, for indeed the lady was very clever, confident, and most definitely independent. For a lady living alone – she managed very well. The lady was tall and slender, yet perfectly proportioned, and possessed a voice that both soothed and commanded attention. Lady Gunilda rarely had to raise the volume of her voice to get her point across. She was beautiful and seemed quite wise, albeit eccentric and somewhat misguided. Celestria remembered her visit with the strange and beautiful lady who lived next door to her family's home.

_"I have some common household items and herbs at my disposal that will help you achieve this, my dear." Lady Gunilda smiled. Her fitted, black and red satin gown rustled along the floor as she moved toward the mistress._

"_Why don't you tell me what they are? If they are that common, perhaps I can obtain them myself?" Celestria suggested._

"_What – you're going to sneak into the kitchen at the brothel and risk explaining yourself to the cooks and perhaps your Madam? Please! I think not, my dear. You leave it to me." Lady Gunilda smiled._

"_So what is it you suggest?" Celestria said, curiously._

"_I can make it appear as if you are carrying a child, Celestria – for a little while anyway. That's all I can do for you though. You must find yourself a child if you wish to carry on with this little act of yours." Lady Gunilda grinned. She crossed her left arm across her and leaned the other elbow upon her hand. Her chin rested upon her right hand thoughtfully as she stared at Celestria. "Aren't you fun? Oh, I do love games!" She laughed. "Especially games like this one where a no good man is getting his just deserts!" A beat. "Who is he anyway?"_

"_I don't know if I should say." Celestria frowned and looked downcast._

"_Oh, come now! What are the odds I would know him anyway?" Lady Gunilda grinned wickedly._

"_Uhm, well… he is the Sheriff of Nottingham." Celestria said softly._

"_Not a word to anyone else about this – do you hear me?" Lady Gunilda said sharply. "You will __**not**__ speak of this to another soul – what you are trying to do, and to whom! Most especially to whom!" Lady Gunilda said firmly. "If is fortunate for you that I care for you, my dear, or else I would never agree to help you knowing this." The lady sighed, shaking her head._

"_You asked." Mistress Celestria muttered._

"_Indeed I did, and for very good reason. No one must ever know you involved me. Let's get that straight right now before I proceed with this endeavor of yours. Do you agree to this?" Lady Gunilda asked pointedly._

"_Aye. No one shall know of you, Gunilda. You have my word."_

"_Good." Lady Gunilda smiled. She took a sip of mead from her teacup. She liked the feel of the cup in her hand, but much preferred spirits to tea._

"_So, what are these household items? What do they do?" Celestria asked._

"_I shall give you herbs to make you vomit in the mornings, other common household items to apply to your skin in a paste to give your complexion a very pink and rosy appearance, and I have a sugar cane tonic I shall give you to help you gain weight." Lady Gunilda explained._

"_What? Gain weight?" Celestria gasped._

"_You want to look like you're carrying a child inside of you, don't you, foolish girl? This is your game, honey, not mine. If you're going to play it, you had better play it right." Gunilda smirked as she quirked an eyebrow over her caramel coloured eyes._

"_Yes. You're right, Lady Gunilda." Celestria sighed. "But how shall I gain weight if you're giving me herbs to make me heave?" She asked, bewildered._

"_It's all about timing, my dear. You take the herbs that shall bring on the sudden malaise just before you rise in the mornings, and when you are finished with… that, you will begin to take the tonic. The pastes you shall apply to your face and chest before you greet people, and you're ready! It's that simple, my dear!" Lady Gunilda laughed._

"_Hmm. Interesting. Alright, I guess if that is all then I am interested in these items you have." Celestria said._

"_You got gold, my dear?" Gunilda asked._

"_Aye." Celestria nodded._

"_Good. Fifty gold pieces oughta do it, my dear." The beautiful witch grinned._

It turned out that Lady Gunilda was most helpful. Celestria sighed as she thought of the amount of gold she had parted with, but knew that it would all be worth it the end. For inside of her portmanteau along with her gowns and other small trinkets, were the following items she would use to achieve her goal: chamomile, rock salt, and licorice root to induce vomiting, a small bag of black pepper as well as finely ground ginger and mustard to apply in a paste to her skin to redden it, and the sugar cane tonic to help her to gain weight. This was the only way. The only way the Sheriff would not kill her is if he thought she carried his child. She sighed. She prayed he would never know what she was up to now. She knew there would be no mercy for this game she was playing, but she knew she had nothing to lose and everything to gain – _**if**_ it worked.

And it must work! For there was a rather fortunate occurrence that took place, as it turned out for the mistress. It was then, when Mistress Celestria discovered while she visited in Castleton that her cousin, Lucia was in an unfortunate way, she arranged to meet with her as well. Her cousin was engaged in the same business as Celestria, only in Celestria's mind, her cousin was never careful. The girl was barely fifteen and very frightened by her circumstances. Celestria grinned as she recalled meeting with her cousin.

_"I do not want this child!" The girl began to sob._

"_Do not worry, Lucia. I'll take care of it. I will take your infant from you and care for it until you get on your feet, or perhaps if all works out we can make some other… arrangement?" Celestria said smoothly. She knew it would work. Lucia looked remarkably like Celestria, so Celestria hoped the infant would bear some resemblance to her._

"_Oh! Would you, Celestria?" Lucia exclaimed as she dried her tears._

"_Indeed. Do not think of it." Celestria smiled._

Celestria grinned as she thought of it. Everything had come together so perfectly for her. She had covered all of her tracks too, just as the Sheriff said to her – or rather, threatened: _"I'm very good at covering my tracks."_ Nottingham had said firmly to her that night as he stroked her cheek. Well, she would too. As he instructed, she finally burned the letter he sent her – only two days ago, in her parents' home. Now she wondered if she made the right choice? She might have been able to use the letter to save her somehow, though she wondered who at all in Nottingham would listen to her word over the Sheriff's.

She debated staying in Castleton longer, but she soon remembered why it was she left. She needed her freedom back and anyway she couldn't stay away forever. If she didn't return he would come looking for her at some point.

She kicked her horse and urged it faster toward her destination. It was time for the games to begin.

* * *

On Tuesday in the afternoon, Rebeccah was outside speaking to Lady Rhiannon's stable master. She was startled to hear a horse approaching for there were few visitors to the manor since the lady moved to the castle, save for the Sheriff from time to time, and Lady Rhiannon of course. And then Rebeccah remembered. It was Tuesday. Would Lady Rhiannon be recovered by now? It had been just over a week since the Sheriff stopped by to the manor on his way to Portsmouth. Rebeccah turned around. She smiled warmly. It was not Lady Rhiannon, nor the lady's betrothed. It was Master Aleyn instead. She excused herself from the stable master, then walked toward her handsome suitor and smiled a greeting at him.

He stopped his horse and dismounted, then walked toward her holding the reins.

"Good day, my lady. You are a sight for tired eyes." He smiled.

"Why, thank you, Master Aleyn. It is good to see you – except you forgot. It is Tuesday. The lady may come by today." Rebeccah pointed out with her eyebrow quirked.

"Oh, my. Why, I'd completely forgotten! How silly of me." Ancel sighed and shook his head in feigned embarrassment. "Well, I must go then. You mustn't be seen with me, it is _**her**_ home after all." Ancel said.

"It is quite alright, Aleyn. I am sure the lady won't mind when she meets you. You are only stopping by, it's not like you're looking for a place to stay!" She laughed.

"Indeed." He smiled.

"Would you like to come in? Perhaps a goblet of wine to warm you?" Rebeccah offered.

"Wine, you say? Not… tea?" Ancel asked.

"No, milord. I think perhaps wine would serve to warm you better." Rebeccah smiled.

"Oh, I'm sure you're right, my fine lady." Ancel smirked. He secured his horse to a tree and offered his arm to Rebeccah. She took it willingly and they went inside the manor.

Ancel was hoping that the Sheriff's lady would come by today. He had it all figured out if she did.

* * *

And so the rest of the week progressed, yet to Nottingham it felt like time was standing still. He was no further along by the time the following Monday arrived than he was the week before, except that his lady had improved considerably and responded very well to being weaned from the wine. It had been over a fortnight since the event happened where she came close to losing their child. Even though she appeared to be doing well, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something may go awry.

It had been over a week since he instructed his men to search all day, every day for the heretic and his henchman. Each night, his Lieutenant and his Captain would report the same thing with growing frustration as each day continued – that they turned up nothing. Indeed it was like the outlaw had completely vanished!

It was nearing midday as the Sheriff rode into Nettlestone. He was heading to Gisborne's manor for two reasons: to see his son, and to speak to his Officer, Richard about a personal favour. He smiled as he urged his horse along the winding path. He thought more about what his lady had said, and he knew exactly what to do. He grinned as he remembered how the idea had come to him. It was the one thing that might serve to move certain matters in his life in a forward direction.

Some time later, he secured his horse to a tree not far from the path the led to the manor, then he strolled down the path toward the door.

"Good day, milord Sheriff." Richard nodded.

"Good day, Richard." The Sheriff replied. He looked to Nigel. "Nigel." He nodded.

"Greetings, milord." Nigel said. He clasped his hands in front of him.

"Are you only here for a brief visit, milord?" Richard asked of his master.

"Well, actually, Richard – that depends on you." The Sheriff smirked.

"Milord?" Richard asked, bewildered.

"I have a task for you, Richard – except it is your artistic talent I require of you." The Sheriff said.

"Oh, I see." Richard smiled. His green eyes twinkled.

"How long would you require your subject to sit still for you?" Nottingham asked.

"Well, I can draw from memory as you know, milord, but if there was something particular you had in mind it would be better for me to see it." Richard explained. He noted the Sheriff's impatient expression just then and sighed. "Probably three or four hours at best, milord." He said.

"Alright. I can live with that." The Sheriff smiled. "That's better than what I imagined."

"Alright, milord." Richard said, still rather puzzled. "What is it you want me to draw?" Richard asked, curiously.

"Bah! Good thing we're slow around here." Nigel huffed.

The Sheriff shot Nigel a scornful look. His knight smiled impishly and looked downcast.

"Come. Let's go inside and I shall tell you all about it." The Sheriff smiled to Richard. He slapped him on the shoulder and led him into the manor. "This will be a gift for my lady, Richard. Just so you know." The Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north knowingly.

"Ah. I see." Richard nodded.

"Oh, I forgot." The Sheriff frowned. "What do you require to achieve this? I brought no parchment or –"

"Do not worry, milord. I still have some charcoal and parchment paper available. It is left over from the countless drawings I did when we were in Yorkshire, milord – a miracle indeed." Richard sighed.

"Very good." The Sheriff smiled. "Why don't you get yourself set up in the sitting room? I shall have a word with Lady Isabelle and look in on my son while you do that." He said.

"That will be fine, milord." Richard nodded.

The Sheriff spoke to Isabelle about his son's progress. She assured the Sheriff that his son was healthy and thriving. Robert had returned to the castle two days ago and resumed his duties in the armoury. Lady Isabelle was perfectly comfortable managing the child on her own and was happy to be occupied. The Sheriff noted that his son seemed very happy in his Auntie 'Izzy's' company as well, so as far as he was concerned, things worked out very well. He was going to suggest she help out Lady Margaret when the midwife returned. In fact, the Sheriff thought his son was doing better in the care of his future sister in law than the midwife. The Sheriff visited with his son for a brief time, and then returned to the sitting room. He grinned as he stood in the doorway.

Richard turned around when he heard his master's footsteps. His jaw flew agape. "Milord Sheriff, I've never drawn – "

"Well, you will now!" The Sheriff said firmly. He walked over to the chair by the fireplace and seated himself.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Richard asked as he narrowed his green eyes upon his master. _This will never work, but I must not fail!_

The Sheriff sighed and rolled his eyes. "No, Richard. I left several duties behind including that cursed town council meeting, just so I could take a leisurely ride out here in the middle of bloody nowhere, sit idle for a time, as well as manage – "

"Hmm." Richard nodded as he stroked his chin and took in the scene before him. "This may be tricky, milord Sheriff. It can be very unpredictable – all of that fidgeting. You just never know – "

"You will do this, Richard. I've seen what you can do, lad." A beat. "You _**can**_ do this. Lose your fear. You're my knight. You have no fear! Of all things to fear, don't fear your gift." The Sheriff said, unblinking.

"Yes, milord. I will do this for you, but you will see at the end of it why I've never drawn… why I choose not to draw –"

"Oh, for pity's sake, just do it! Do I look like I have all day to you?" The Sheriff huffed as he nodded to his lap.

Richard sighed. "As you wish, milord."

Richard sat at a table before the Sheriff and laid the parchment on the table. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the scene before him on the chair to the right of the fireplace. He tilted his head, ran his fingers though his wavy, dark hair with one hand and then he began to work with the charcoal held in his right. The endeavor took him four hours to get it right. The artist was very critical of himself and thought he could have done better, but his master was indeed very pleased.

The Sheriff smiled as he rode back toward Nottingham later in the afternoon. He wasn't sure when he was going to give one of the drawings to his lady. His knight made two drawings at Nottingham's request. The second one was easy for Richard because he only studied the first one and copied a small portion of it for the second drawing. The second drawing was going to be Lady Rhiannon's wedding gift. One of them anyway. The first drawing would have to be presented when the timing was absolutely perfect. The Sheriff knew that when it came to this particular matter, he was worrying about timing a little bit too much, but he also knew that he would know it in his gut when the time to show it to her would present itself.

The Sheriff was glad to have thought of the idea. He had been wondering for months how on earth he would tell her? How could he ever make her believe it when she had no memory whatsoever, for whatever reason? The Sheriff sighed. _When I tell her – it must work! Now I shall have the proof! She's got to believe me now!_ Indeed, he was hoping that his Officer's artistic talents would assist in this troublesome matter. This wasn't the first time that Richard's skills had come in handy to help the Sheriff's son. _Let him help my son again._

* * *

That very night at dusk, Hamon and Ancel were seated upon logs by the fire in the clearing, deep in the heart of Sherwood Forest. They were discussing their plans for the next day. They wanted to be ready if the Sheriff's lady showed up at her manor.

"We will be ready and waiting if she turns up, Ancel." Hamon said. He took a sip of mead from his flask then continued. "I shall wait amongst the trees. We will be prepared to carry out the plan."

"Maybe it's better if I wait there with you?" Ancel suggested. "Rebeccah was curious last week when I went there."

"No. You go there to visit your little lady. That way we can corner the cursed bitch if she shows up. You'll get her in there, and failing that, I'll get her outside of her manor. She won't stand a chance of escape if we're both there." Hamon smiled wickedly.

"Alright. I'll do it. We'll leave here in the morning. If we get there early we'll keep watch. I'm not knocking on the door until after midday, unless the Sheriff's lady turns up. Rebeccah will think there's something funny if I stay too long." Ancel pointed out.

"Good. Now you're thinking, Ancel." Hamon sneered. "Let's just hope little miss, Lady Nottingham in the making makes it this time!" He spat.

"Surely she's recovered by now? It's been a fortnight." Ancel sighed.

"She's bound to show up one of these times, Ancel. We shall increase the frequency of our observations at her manor. She could show up on any given day of the week! We must be ready." Hamon said firmly.

"Yes." Ancel said absently.

"You do what you must with _**your**_ lady tomorrow, but remember this: if that cursed bitch of the Sheriff's shows up – your lady shall become your prisoner. Don't get any ideas about saving her." Nigel said, unblinking.

"Yes. I hear you." Ancel sighed.

"If you had any fantasies of taking the little wench I strongly suggest you do it _**very**_ soon or else you shall lose your opportunity altogether." Hamon snarled as he quirked his eyebrow.

"Duly noted… _**Master**_." Ancel spat facetiously.

"Don't you get lippy with me! You have no choice. You shall hang too, so either way you cut it, friend, your little whore is doomed. Either she perishes in a fire, or hangs in the Village Square – because she chose to consort with you!" A beat. "Do you get it now, Ancel?" Hamon huffed.

"Aye. I get it indeed." Ancel sneered.

"She chose her fate the day she chose to ally herself with the Sheriff's lady – and then she sealed it when she met you. Do not have any illusions about her!" Hamon said sharply.

"Yes. I got it the first time." Ancel huffed. He stood up and kicked at the log angrily.

"Get a grip, Ancel!" Hamon barked. He stood up and went swiftly to his henchman.

Ancel turned to face him and folded his arms. "She's served her purpose. We can let her go and continue to stake out the Sheriff's lady's manor." Ancel said firmly.

"You fool! She's really done a number on you – this lady servant of hers, hasn't she?" Hamon exclaimed, incredulous. "You know, I thought there was hope for you because you were starting to show some imagination to your thinking lately, but I see I was wrong. Now you're only thinking with that which lies between your legs!" Hamon spat. "Think, Ancel! She'll go straight to the castle and tell the lady and her precious Sheriff everything! This is a game, Ancel. Your lady is a pawn! Face it and move on, will you? Stay with the cursed plan!" Hamon bellowed.

"Yes." Ancel said.

"Yes… what? You're not inspiring much confidence with me!" Hamon said sharply as his hand rested precariously above the handle of his sword.

"Yes, I am with you in this… plan." Ancel said through his clenched jaw.

"Good. That's better." Hamon grinned. "Oh, cheer up, friend. If you cooperate I'll give you a chance to bed your lady – before I burn her along with her employer, that is!" He laughed.

* * *

The Sheriff returned to the castle a few hours past dusk that Monday night. He sighed when he went into the den. He could see light streaming from underneath the doors that led into the bedchamber. He walked over to a desk in the corner of the room near the fireplace and opened a drawer. He took the two scrolls of the drawings from under his belt and hid them there. Nottingham smiled as he began to close the drawer. Just then he heard the doors open behind him. He sighed. He slowly and quietly closed the drawer, then turned around and faced his lady.

Lady Rhiannon stood there in the doorway wearing her burgundy velvet dressing gown that he loved seeing her wear. Her arms were folded and her eyebrow quirked suspiciously upon her lover.

"Ah! There you are, my lady!" Nottingham smiled as he strode toward her.

She sighed and looked away.

"My lady? What is it?" The Sheriff asked, though he knew very well what the problem was. Nothing could possibly prepare him for how great she had blown the problem up to be, however.

"You must be jesting?" She asked, incredulous. "Where were you? Oh, and don't give me this – "There you are." bit! What do you mean – there you are? Where else would I be but here – waiting on you?" Lady Rhiannon huffed.

"Rhiannon?" The Sheriff asked, shaking his head.

"God! Not only do you not wish to be with me – you wish to hold me prisoner as well! What am I to you, George? Am I to be your wife? Or your toy? What is with all of this secrecy?" Lady Rhiannon demanded.

"My lady, you assume too much." The Sheriff sighed as he stood before her.

She was only getting started.

"Ha! Do I now?" She asked facetiously. "What the hell is going on? Where is my sister in law? Where was my brother for over a week? And don't tell me it was busy in the armoury either! What is Guy doing over in Nettlestone much of the time?" Lady Rhiannon demanded as she paced the floor. She stopped and narrowed her eyes upon him. "And most of all – _**whom**_ is occupying your time?" She asked pointedly as she stared into his eyes, unblinking. "Because you see, it isn't me. So it must be someone quite precious – whomever _**she**_ is!" Rhiannon huffed. She folded her arms and turned away from him.

The Sheriff sighed and looked downcast. _Not a 'she', my lady. It is a little boy who is stealing me from you. __**Our**__ boy. Curses!_ He walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She turned around to face him.

"My love, you have this all wrong." The Sheriff said slowly.

She began to roll her eyes and looked away. He put his hands upon her shoulders again. _Think, damn it! Think! You must come up with something!_

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff said firmly.

His lady looked downcast.

The Sheriff reached out and put his fingertips upon her chin. He tilted her chin upward and she was forced to meet his gaze. "My lady Rhiannon, you are the _**only**_ lady in my life. I needed to go out of town but I did not wish to tell you about it." He sighed and shook his head. "But now I see I have no choice and this shall spoil my surprise entirely." He frowned.

"Surprise?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Indeed I did meet with someone today, my Lady Nottingham." A beat. "About my wedding gift to you." The Sheriff grinned. "Alas, the person best suited to provide this… one of a kind, exquisite gift does not live in town." The Sheriff explained.

"You're sure." She said with her eyebrow quirked suspiciously.

"My lovely Rhiannon, I am telling no lie." The Sheriff said unblinking as he stared into her soft green eyes.

She sighed and shook her head. "You're right. You are not fibbing. At least – I think you're not." She said as she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head studying him.

"Good. Now that we've got that out of the way." The Sheriff grinned as he pulled her to him and held her.

Lady Rhiannon pushed him away. He looked upon her curiously.

"Rhiannon? What is going on?" The Sheriff asked, bewildered by her behaviour.

"Ha! You tell _**me**_, lover! We didn't get _**anything**_ out of the way – by the way." Rhiannon huffed. "You didn't answer all of my questions. I'm still as much in the dark now as I was before. You keep leaving me for long periods of time, then offering me weak excuses for it hours later – as an afterthought!" Rhiannon cried, her voice was raised a decibel or two. "In the meantime – I cannot leave these chambers for some unexplained, god forsaken reason!" She shouted. She felt the hot tears of anger stinging her cheeks as they trickled down her face. "Is my misery what makes you happy? Do not toy with me! You cannot have it both ways, George of Nottingham! You cannot have your cursed, little harlot waiting for you in God knows what village – and also have your obedient, obsequious little wife waiting for you like a cursed prisoner! You're burying me alive!" Lady Rhiannon shrieked.

"Rhiannon?" The Sheriff asked, incredulous. She was beside herself! His eyes widened. What was she trying to say to him?

She quickly moved toward him and began to beat upon his chest. "Why won't you let me out of here? It's you! It's not the physician – it is you! I know it is!" Rhiannon shouted. "Is this what it has come to? I wondered when the real you would finally show up!" She screamed.

He put his hands firmly upon her shoulders and shook her gently. She caught her breath and looked up at him. "My lady – listen to me! There is no other lady in my life. Now… calm yourself, my love. You shall be permitted to leave the chambers." The Sheriff sighed. "You are permitted anywhere within the walls that surround the castle, but heed my words: you shall _**not**_ venture anywhere beyond the grounds without telling me! Promise me, Rhiannon!" The Sheriff said sharply.

"What is going on, George?" Lady Rhiannon implored him.

The Sheriff sighed. "There is danger lurking." He said softly.

"What danger?" She asked.

"You must trust me, Rhiannon. I told you before: this is not punishment. It is an act of love. I am trying to protect you from harm. There is indeed danger lurking about in Nottingham, but I cannot say more than that at this time." The Sheriff explained, even though he couldn't even begin to explain it to himself. He was still trying to figure out the meaning behind Mortianna's vision.

"So if I am in danger – do not leave me." Rhiannon said knowingly.

"Forgive me, my angel. I should have told you I needed to leave for a time. I will be here for you." He said softly.

"You better be!" She huffed. She still couldn't shake the thought that he was hiding something. "Does any of this have anything to do with…" She closed her eyes. "Celestria?" Lady Rhiannon sighed.

The Sheriff shook his head. "What?" He asked, increduluous.

"You can tell me. For God's sake, just tell me! One more time, because I'm certain there was a fib somewhere in that tale of yours, George – who is she?" Lady Rhiannon demanded.

"My lady Rhiannon, you are my lady love. You shall be my Lady Nottingham. I am true to you as I've always been." The Sheriff said. He tried very hard to maintain eye contact for he knew that once he wasn't true to her. Or was he? He thought he was touching his lady! He was tricked! _When I get my hands on that sodding whore I shall choke the life out of her with my bare hands! _"I promise you, Rhiannon - you are the only lady for me." He smiled.

Lady Rhiannon sighed.

"Am I really… burying you alive?" The Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north.

"You led me to believe you lost interest in me. You never touch me anymore! You know what is pathetic? I know more about your cousin's whereabouts on any given day than I do of yours! How ridiculous is that?" Lady Rhiannon pointed out, facetiously.

"How would you know what Gis would be up to every day?" The Sheriff asked with his amber eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Because he is forthcoming with his wife! Meridwyn knows what he's doing, but I haven't the faintest idea what you're up to most of the time!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

"My love, I have a slightly higher responsibility than that of my cousin." The Sheriff commented dryly. He sighed. "A lot of the information I'm privy to is highly confidential. Some of what I do must remain secret – sometimes even to you. I can never risk certain things being found out, particularly matters I am investigating." The Sheriff explained.

"Yes, yes, I know. I must understand. I must trust you. I've heard it all before." Lady Rhiannon sighed.

"You must ask yourself, Rhiannon – if you can handle being my wife? I thought you could, but now I'm beginning to wonder." Nottingham sighed.

"And what is that supposed to mean? You're going to cast me aside now? In the condition I am in?" Rhiannon asked, incredulous.

"No! No, my angel, you misunderstand me!" The Sheriff said. He went to her and held her to him. He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. "My love, this is ludicrous. Let us not digress any further and end up in a quarrel. My lady, we will be married in three weeks time. Let us focus on our new life together!" The Sheriff whispered excitedly. "Tell me, Rhiannon – are you ready for it?" He asked.

"Of course I am ready to be your wife." Rhiannon smiled, despite herself.

"No, I mean – are we prepared? Is your gown ready? What of your last meeting with Galfrey?" The Sheriff asked.

"Everything is ready, my prince. Do not worry. It will happen. Finally, it will happen for us." Lady Rhiannon smiled as she leaned her cheek against his leather doublet. She inhaled his scent and it soothed her.

"Yes, my love. Finally, you shall be my Lady Nottingham. Now, I want you to understand something." The Sheriff began.

"What is it?" She asked as she looked up at him.

"My beautiful lady, I desire you all of the time. If I had it my way, we would never leave the bedchamber!" He exclaimed.

She felt her cheeks flush and grinned at him.

"But now I am forced to think not of myself – for once." He sighed. "It is damn near killing me to keep turning you down, my lady. I did it for our child." The Sheriff said.

"My prince, everything was fine when you returned from Portsmouth, remember?" Rhiannon pointed out as she kissed his cheek.

"I know, but I kept remembering what happened to you the week before that, after I –"

"George, you must stop this! Nothing happened. We've talked about this! Nobody is to blame for that and our child is healthy. He is strong. He is _**your **_child after all!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Or – _**she**_." The Sheriff pointed out. "Our child could be a little girl, my love. I think you keep forgetting that. Though, God help me if our daughter is exactly like you. I'm not sure I can handle two of you!" The Sheriff teased as he nuzzled into her neck and tickled her skin with his whiskers.

"You're the Sheriff of Nottingham, lover. You can handle anything!" Rhiannon grinned.

"I can _**always**_ handle you, beautiful lady!" He laughed. The Sheriff held her face in his hands and leaned down to her and kissed her softly. "It will all come together, Rhiannon. You'll see." He whispered.

_You'll see very soon. Very soon, my lovely, bride to be - you shall see your son._

**A/N: Things are beginning to really heat up in Nottingham, if you'll pardon the pun. How long will Celestria be able to keep up with this act of hers? Will the Sheriff be successful at keeping his lady from encountering harm? There shall be lots of excitement in store, though the story is drawing near to the end.**

**Just so the readers are aware, that is not a misspelling on 'just deserts'. The phrase 'getting his/her just deserts' refers to someone getting what they deserve - whether it is good or bad. The phrase actually was coined in the thirteenth century but since it's close enough to that century in this story, and it was the best phrase I could think of for this lovely, Lady Gunilda to say to Celestria, I decided to use it here. Indeed, it is pronounced differently than we're used to seeing with this spelling, but the meaning is referring to what one justly deserves. **

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**~Donna~  
**


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